Lost in the Unconscious
by SilentBat18
Summary: Terry finds himself in a little bit of unconscious trouble when he runs into Spellbinder. He never thought a tranquilizer could cause so much trouble, and Jazz is forced to help. The next volume in the series after Untold Story.
1. Aftermath

**_A/N: Well, since i obviously ended my last fic with an edgy cliffhanger, i have started my third story soon before the anticipation and excitement dies. In case anyone is a new reader, the sequence of stories go: A New Beginning and Untold Story, any other stories are one shots. Once those have been read, you are ready to check this one out. I hope this will live up to expectations (if there are any) and even beyond. Since this is my fifth authored fic so far, i hope any of my earlier mistakes don't appear in this one, particularly verb confusion. I'm aiming for this to be more Terry centered compared to Untold Story which was more Jazz centered; so this should be a treat for everyone. Anyway, enough chatter, on with the show!_**

**_Disclaimer: Batman Beyond is not mine, so i do not own any of the characters created in the show. only those who were not in the show are technically mine._**

* * *

Reluctantly, tired, blue eyes slide open and an exhausted sigh escapes a bruised chest. With a pained grunt, Terry switches off the screaming alarm before slowly sitting up and rubbing his throbbing head. The nights are taking their toll on the young hero, and after three months of returning to solitary work, things haven't gotten back to normal. He expected working alone again would be an easy transition, but the struggle has yet to end. When he had a partner by his side, he was able to pay better attention to his environment, and have more time to predict his enemy's actions. He took advantage of having a second set of eyes watch his back, and hates the painful consequences of his avoidable mistakes. But now with Jazz gone, all he can do is slowly get out of bed, grab a bag of ice, and start the coffee machine.

After applying some Chinese balm to the side of his black and blue ribs, Terry heads off to take his final exam for the semester. Knowing he barely had enough time to study, he manages to tough it out hoping the good grades he received throughout the semester will make up for a barely passing grade for this test. When he finally hits the submit button, he quickly gathers his bag, and almost rushes out the door to avoid getting a suspicious look from his professor.

"Terry! Terry guess what!" Max's excited voice reaches him just as he leaves the university's business wing. He turns to find her rushing towards him.

"What?" He asks when she catches up to him.

"I got it!" She squeals with joy.

"Got what?" Terry asks as he takes a step back in case her excitement makes her explode.

"The internship!" She replies as she hops in place like a five year old at Disneyland. "Remember that internship I told you about?"

"For that aerospace technology company in Japan?"

"Yeah! I got the call this morning. I'll be flying out in a week for the whole summer; isn't that exciting?"

"The whole summer? Where are you staying?"

"They said something about company housing. They'll pretty much give me everything I need _and _it includes pay."

"Wow, exciting," Terry replies unintentionally sounding indifferent as he begins walking towards a nearby coffee shop.

"What's with you?" She asks dialing down her enthusiasm and falling into step next to him.

"Nothing, just tired."

"You failed your economics exam, didn't you."

"No, at least I don't think so. Whatever, I still passed the semester," he replies trying to convince himself that he won't be repeating the class again.

"I hope not. No offence, but I'm not going to tutor you again. I'd rather get shot that talk about stock market failures again." Terry gives her a forced smile as he opens the café door for her. "You sure you're just tired?" She asks sounding a bit concerned once they stand in line.

"Late night, that's all," he reassures without looking at her. After ordering the largest, blackest coffee they have, Terry finds a table by the window and invites Max to join him.

"I know you better than that, McGinnis," Max starts. "Are you upset I'm leaving?"

"What? No," Terry quickly replies.

"Then what is it?"

"I already told you: long night. That's it, so drop it."

"Not this again," Max complains rolling her eyes. "Look, either you tell me or I'll beat it out of you."

Letting out a very irritated sigh, Terry glares at his long time friend. "When did you say you were leaving?"

"McGinnis," Max warns returning the glare.

"I've been making a lot of mistakes; that's all."

"Mistakes?" She asks understanding a little more than what he can say at a crowded coffee shop.

"Yeah, and Bruce is starting to lose his patience."

"Why?"

"Because they're stupid mistakes; the kind he specifically trained me to avoid a few years ago," he replies looking a bit ashamed at the confession.

"Oh," is all Max can say knowing that his partner's leaving is the root of the problem. "Well, maybe you just need a bit more time to adjust." Terry doesn't reply as he stares out the window. After a few tense and quiet minutes, Max lets out a sigh. "Well, like I said, I'll be leaving in a week, so do you want to go out tomorrow night for one last hoorah?"

"I don't think I'll be able to make it."

"Oh, that's fine I guess," she replies trying to hide her disappointment, but fails at the attempt since Terry knows her too well.

"I'll make time for something, Max."

"Well, I'll hold you to that," she replies smiling. "Anyway, I have to go take care of some things before I make the trip. If you find time for dinner, give me a call."

Once she walks out, Terry returns his empty gaze to the busy streets of Gotham. Most of the citizens that walk by are oblivious to how close they came to finding their city a giant crater by morning, and Terry is almost envious of that type of ignorance. They never worry whether tonight is their last, or what would happen if they failed as a hero. No, they worry about whether their car will start in the morning, what shoes to wear, of if that last chocolate muffin will be theirs to order. He studies the happy, stressed, or annoyed faces that pass by, tries to read people's lips when they are on the phone, and watches someone try to hail a cab for the third time.

He suddenly perks up when a familiar woman with long, wavy black hair enters his view, but with her back facing him, he isn't able to make out her face. He locks his gaze onto her and watches her impatiently press the button for the crosswalk. But when she finally turns her head towards Terry, a tall, burly man steps in front of her, blocking her face.

"Slag it!" Terry curses aloud and stands to get a better view. However, by then, the crowd of waiting pedestrians begin walking to the other side of the street making it harder to see her. Without waiting to think, Terry rushes out of the shop and pushes his way through the crowd looking for the woman. When he spots her, he manages to grab her shoulder and spin the startled woman around only to realize she's a stranger.

"What the hell's your problem?" She cries out shaking away his grip.

"Uh, sorry. Thought you were someone else," Terry stammers stepping back with embarrassment and disappointment.

"Then how bout you get a better look before grabbing people!" She shoots back before hurrying away.

With a sigh, Terry heads in the opposite direction trying to understand why he felt compelled to go after a woman he thought was Jazz. Deciding he needs a distraction, he makes his way towards his mother's apartment hoping someone there will keep his mind from picking out any other falsely familiar faces.

* * *

"Hey, mom," Terry greets when he walks into the kitchen.

"Terry! I didn't hear you come in," Mary replies lifting her head from the newspaper she is reading.

"The door was unlocked, so I let myself in." Dropping his bag on a chair, he moves to the fridge to grab a soda.

"Well, to what do I owe this surprise visit?" She asks taking off her reading glasses and setting her crossword puzzle aside.

"I just finished my last final, so I have the afternoon off. Thought I could just stop by," he explains pulling the paper his way to see how far she got.

"How'd you do?" He gives her a pained expression before returning his eyes to the paper. "That hard?"

"I hate economics."

"You're the one who decided to major in business; what did you expect? Art classes?"

"I was doing fine the rest of the semester," he defends himself as he grabs the pen from her hand to fill in number 14 across. "So I won't be failing."

"Well, what about your other classes?"

"I did fine," he replies filling in number 3 down.

"Since when were you so good at crossword puzzles?" She asks impressed when he fills in another word.

"I'm just doing the easy ones. You can have the rest," he answers handing her the paper and pen.

"How thoughtful," Mary quips with rolling eyes. "Are you hungry?"

"Are you still going to feed me if I said no?"

"Yes," she replies getting up to heat some leftovers. "So, how has work been going?"

"Same as usual. Where's Matt?"

"At a friend's house. I'm picking him up in an hour."

"You want me to do it?"

Surprised at the offer, Mary stops pressing microwave buttons and turns to study her son's face. "Honey, is everything alright?"

Terry raises a brow at the strange question. "Yeah, why?"

"You just seem a little… different."

"I'm just bored. I have nothing planned for the rest of the day."

"Doesn't Mr. Wayne usually ask for your help right about now?" She continues setting the timer and starting the microwave.

"It's my day off."

"I'm surprised you still know what that is."

"Very funny, mom," Terry replies rolling his eyes. "So, you want me to pick him up or what?"

"Just make sure he doesn't have a heart attack when you do." She sets the plate of warm food in front of him and hands him a fork before she retakes her seat.

After taking a few small bites, Terry begins picking at his food before pushing the plate away. "Hey, mom? Did you think I would get myself into worse trouble after Juvi?"

Taken back by the question, Mary straightens up a bit. "What do you mean?"

"When I was just out of Juvi, did you think I was going to do a lot worse than a B&E charge? And answer honestly."

"Where is this coming from?"

"I was just wondering," Terry shrugs without lifting his eyes from the abandoned food. "I see it all the time: kids who get out manage to get back into the system. It's a cycle."

"Well," Mary sighs, "I won't lie to you, I was a little worried. You looked like you were on a path of self destruction, but I knew you had a lot of good in you, Terry. You were just too angry to see it."

"What if Mr. Wayne never offered me a job?" He asks looking up at her.

Shifting nervously in her chair, Mary reluctantly replies, "After your father died, I was afraid of what would happen to you. I thought you would lash out at the world again." A moment of silence passes before Mary speaks up. "This isn't something people wonder about, Terry. What's going on?"

"Well, I had this friend who was in a similar situation as me."

"A friend, huh," Mary repeats suspiciously eyeing him. "Go on."

"It really is a friend, mom. I'm not referring to myself."

"Ok, alright, I believe you," she unconvincingly replies.

"Anyway," Terry continues frowning at her. "She found herself a good job, but she just decided to quit all of a sudden. I'm not sure if she's tempted to go back to getting easy money, or if she's still on the right path."

"Terrence McGinnis, did you quit?" Mary all of a sudden blurts out. "No wonder you have more time on your hands and you failed your final! Get Wayne on the phone right now-"

"Ma! I said it wasn't me!" Terry cuts her off. "Calm down! Like I said, it's a friend."

Studying his face for honesty, Mary clears her throat and scoots a little closer to her son. "Alright, how well do you know _her_?" She asks wondering if Terry is using a female friend to throw her off the trail.

"Enough to think about it."

"Do you wonder about quitting your job to go back to crime?"

"Mom," Terry scolds assuming she still thinks he's referring to himself.

"I'm serious, honey. Do you?"

"No."

"And why is that?"

"I'm not tempted to, I guess."

"Why not?"

Terry shrugs. "That life doesn't appeal to me anymore."

"Did you think it appealed to your friend before she quit?"

Pausing to recall the last time he and Jazz saw each other, he shakes his head. "It didn't seem so."

"I guess you have nothing to worry about then. But if you're still not convinced, give her a call and ask her."

"Thanks, mom." Terry says rising. "Anyway, where did you say Matt was?"

"Hang on, I'll get you the address," Mary gets up to get her phone to look through the address book. After copying the location into his phone, Terry gives his mom a hug and grabs his bag. "This was nice. You should come by more often."

"I'll try; see you later."

"Oh, and Terry?" Mary calls out when she follows him to the door.

"Yeah?"

"If you ever quit, I'll hound you every minute of every day until you get your job back. I say this out of love, of course."

"Uh, of course," Terry repeats looking a bit anxious, and heads out before she could threaten him about anything else.

-to be continued-feedback welcome-


	2. Hello Again

"Concentrate, Terry," Bruce's exasperated voice speaks into the comlink.

"I am," Batman breathlessly replies as he blocks a kick from a Kobra member.

Grabbing his offender's leg, he throws him into the wall behind him before running after the leader who disappeared through a skylight. But before he can start up the ladder, two more Kobra members jump him and begin their assault using electric brass knuckles. After receiving a few blows to the face and gut, Batman flips back to get some distance and time to defend himself. Landing a few feet away, he fires a bola that wraps itself around one member incapacitating him while he concentrates on the other rushing at him.

The Kobra runs at him with arm in the air, and when he gets close enough, brings the weapon wielding fist forward ready to strike. Batman, however, counters the move by side stepping, grabbing hold of the wrist that passes him and throws the Kobra's momentum off by pulling him in a different direction. He then punches the assailant once in the gut and up into his jaw before he throws him off his shoulder and onto the ground. When Batman tries to run back to the skylight, the first Kobra he knocked down manages to regain his footing, and runs straight into Batman's path. Knowing he's wasted enough time already, Batman jumps up to deliver an aerial kick to the criminal's head. Now sprinting to the skylight, he rockets up to the roof only to find a Kobra marked car speeding off.

"Slag it!" He yells before taking to the air to pursue it.

"Call the car," Bruce orders.

"No, it won't get to me in time," Batman counters as he tries to gain speed.

"Do it, McGinnis!"

"I don't need it!" He yells back.

Thinking he's close enough, Batman fires a grapple hook aiming for the car's bumper, but his shot misses. Before he could try the attempt again, the familiar sound of the Batmobile makes him look down in time to find its canopy opening. Although irritated at Bruce for summoning the car, Batman retracts his wings and falls into the driver's seat before speeding off. The Batmobile's incredible power effortlessly catches up to the Kobra's car within minutes, and once Batman finds himself flying directly over his target, he ejects out of the floor and lands on the roof of the car below. He then proceeds to break in a window and pull out the leader that got away. Throwing the Kobra into the street before he could shoot him, Batman repeats the action with the driver and takes control of the car. Simultaneously hitting the breaks and turning the wheel, he manages to bring the car to a skidding halt before it careens into a busy intersection. Once out of danger, he recovers the stolen research samples and gets out in time to find police cars beginning to surround him.

A few officers climb out with pointed guns, but realizing Batman is alone, they lower their weapons. "They should be somewhere back there," Batman explains referring to the Kobras he threw out. Two squad cars head to the direction he pointed just as Barbara comes out of an unmarked car and walks up to him.

"Batman," she professionally greets.

"Believe this belongs to the bio department," he says handing her the case. "Did you pick up the ones at the lab?"

"No, they managed to disappear before we got there."

"Perfect," he unhappily sighs as he rubs his neck.

"I suggest you do the same before rumors get out of hand," Barbara advises when she notices her men staring at the two. With a nod, Batman leaps into the air just as his car comes zooming by to kidnap him.

* * *

When he arrives at the cave later that night, he doesn't immediately jump out of the car as he usually does; Terry stays in his seat with mask in hand mentally preparing for the argument that he knows isn't going to end well. After a few meditative moments, he sets his jaw as he climbs out ready to face whatever Bruce is going to verbally throw at him. Predictably, his mentor stands waiting by the landing pad with a very unhappy glare twisting his features.

"I _was_ concentrating, Bruce," Terry starts defending himself without moving forward.

"If you were, you would have spotted those two Kobras before they wasted your time. You knew they were just a distraction."

"Look, it ended well. They didn't get their hands on the DNA or the research. Mammals of the world are safe for another night," Terry impatiently replies as he starts taking off his gloves.

"That's not the point. You were sloppy; you looked like you were seventeen again."

"So I didn't perform up to par, big deal," He scoffs leaning his back on the car.

"It _is_ a big deal," Bruce rounds on him with a flaring temper. "You're wasting time and energy on the type of crime you've handled countless times before!"

"I was outnumbered!"

"Don't give me that pathetic excuse," Bruce hisses. "You know as well as I do that I've trained you better than that. Get your act together, McGinnis."

"Hey, I did the best I could tonight and the job was done. As far as I know, it was a successful night; case closed," Terry replies straightening up.

"That wasn't your best, not even close," Bruce shoots back as he walks towards him. "If it were, you wouldn't have had to leave that building in the first place and Barbara would have all five of them in her custody. But what I saw tonight was someone who still thinks he has a partner that could step in and help." Terry sets his jaw and angrily looks away. "Three months is more than enough time to get over it."

"For you maybe," he sneers without looking up at him.

"Watch it," Bruce warns.

"Face it," Terry bitterly continues bravely glaring at his mentor, "you were too used to working alone to value a partner. The reason you got over their absence is because you always acted like they were never there to begin with, you never trusted their abilities, but I did. I may have misjudged her loyalty, but when Jazz was here, I never saw her as an expendable asset and I never acted like she didn't exist. Unlike you, I liked having someone watch my back."

Without warning, a clearly infuriated Bruce shoves his cane onto Terry's chest and pushes him back pinning him to the car. "Don't you _dare _lecture me about partners, McGinnis." Although he lifts his cane away, he doesn't do the same with his glare. "Either you shape up, or get out."

Feeling he's been reprimanded enough for one night, Terry storms off to an alcove to change leaving Bruce in a worse mood than when he found him.

* * *

It's been a while since Terry and Bruce argued the way they did the night before, and although Terry usually would have calmed down by morning, today is different. After replaying the night over in his head, the guilt of accusing his mentor catches up to him. What Terry said was unfair even though there was a level of truth to it, but the way Bruce handled him made it hard not to lash out the way he did. If he was younger, Terry would have let his stubborn mind get the better of him and altogether avoid the manor until Bruce calls. Unfortunately, being a man of 23, he has matured enough to let out an annoyed sigh, grab his keys, and drive over to apologize in person.

He finds Bruce in the study quietly reading a book. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean it; I was angry," Terry starts in a tone that suggests he's apologized like this countless times before. "It was uncalled for, and I won't let it happen again. There, happy?" But Bruce ignores him and flips the page aggravating Terry a little. "This is the part where you nod accepting the apology and change the subject."

"The dog needs a bath," Bruce orders without looking up.

"You didn't nod."

Bruce lifts his eyes to stare at his protégé. "Apologies don't improve your deteriorating skills."

"Fine," Terry sighs, "I'll work harder. Happy now?"

He returns to reading his book. "The dog still needs a bath."

Rolling his eyes, he calls out for Ace and leads him out the door to his car.

* * *

Once they arrive at a nearby groomer, Terry hooks the leash onto Ace's collar and quietly pleads the dog to behave. Since his usual groomer decided to move two years ago, Terry has been trying to find a replacement that can handle the Dane mix. He knows Ace isn't fond of strangers, especially those who bathe him, and with this being the fifth groomer in the past two years, Terry has reason to be a little nervous. At the last groomer, Ace tried to bite off the bather's ear resulting in another ban. Taking in a deep breath, Terry walks through the doors of the establishment and up to the counter.

"I'll be with you in just a moment, sir," a red-headed receptionist greets before turning her attention to a customer on the phone.

Taking this moment to look around, Terry finds a viewing window to his left where clients can watch groomers work on their dogs. Walking up to it, he spots three women hard at work on the dogs hooked to their tables. There is a middle aged woman busy cleaning a tiny dog's ears; a short, blond woman scissoring away at a fuzzy poodle; and the third woman, whose back is turned towards Terry, sits hunched over as she files a large dog's nails. When Terry set eyes on the third woman's short, black hair, he can't help but find something vaguely familiar about her. Before he could shake away the feeling, she straightens up and half turns her head to reveal part of her face and Terry's jaw to drop in surprise.

He can't believe that he's staring at Jazz, of all people, as she pulls her hair into a short pony tail before retaking her hunched position to finish her work. His shock of finding his former partner at a grooming salon turns into an almost mischievous grin. Before he could tap on the glass to get her attention, the receptionist calls him over to her station. Returning to the desk, Terry introduces Ace, fills out the necessary paperwork, and watches her take the black dog through the doors into the grooming area.

"Got another one for you, Jazz," the receptionist announces when she enters.

Looking up from her dog's paw, Jazz's eyes go wide when she recognizes Ace happily wagging his tail at her. "Ace!" She gasps before turning to look out the viewing window; she almost falls off the table when she finds Terry smiling back at her.

His grin grows wider when he watches Jazz clumsily knock off a tray of combs when she shoots up, nervously grab Ace's leash and try to hide her face with a hand as she pulls the dog into another room. After relishing the comical sight, Terry confirms the pick-up time with the receptionist and leaves with a smile plastered on his face.

-to be continued-feedback welcome-


	3. Awkward Moment

**_A/N: wow! such sweet reviews! i'm really flattered! both from Untold Story, and this current one. i dont even know how to express my gratitude... oh wait, how bout with another chapter? sounds fair, right? well, hope everyone enjoys this chappie!_**

* * *

"You just _had_ to get in trouble with the last groomer," Jazz reprimands Ace as she wets him down. "It's not something to wag your tail about, mutt," she continues glaring at him, but his tail just swishes back and forth even faster.

As she lathers him up, she starts thinking of excuses to explain why she never answered Terry's calls the week after quitting. Telling him the truth seems like a ludicrous idea for some reason. He doesn't need to know that talking to him would make her doubt her decision to leave, or that seeing him will tempt her to go back. At the time, leaving seemed like the best solution to stop the nightmares from haunting her every night, and eventually it worked.

It didn't take her long to pick up a different routine, and landing the job at the grooming salon helped keep her mind from wondering about Terry's wellbeing… most of the time. But seeing Terry for the first time in three months brings back some of the guilt she managed to repress; mixed in with that guilt is a bit of fear. Although Terry didn't seem angry when she saw him, she has a feeling he's holding a grudge, so not knowing what to expect when he comes back to pick up the dog sets an uneasy feeling in her stomach.

"If only you could talk," she sighs looking at Ace as she rinses him down and starts spreading some conditioner over his coat. As she waits for it to set, she starts thinking of a believable excuse. "What about 'I was busy vacationing in France with mom?'" She asks looking at Ace, whose reply is a tilt of the head. "Yeah, no way he'd believe that." She grabs the toothbrush and squeezes some pink paste onto it. Then she grabs his muzzle, pulls up his lips and starts gently brushing away. "What about 'I accidentally flushed my phone down the toilet and couldn't afford a new one?'" His reply is trying to pull away from her grip as he licks away at his teeth. "I take that as another no."

"Are you talking to the dog?" Becky, the blond groomer, asks Jazz when she brings in another dog into the bathing room.

"What? No, of course not," Jazz quickly replies without looking at her.

"I do it all the time, you know, so it's nothing to be embarrassed about," she confides as she lifts the tiny Bichon into the tub. She turns on the water and tests its temperature before she starts wetting the white dog down. "He's pretty, isn't he," she says looking at Ace.

"Hm? Who, Ace?" Jazz asks lifting her head to look at her. "Yeah, but he can be a pain."

"He doesn't look like it," Becky replies admiring how calm Ace seems as Jazz cleans his ears; but when she extends a hand to pet his head, Ace's lip curls up to bare a few of his teeth stopping her hand mid air. "Not very friendly; must have some Shar Pei in him. I guess we're lucky he knows you."

"Yeah, lucky," Jazz mumbles as she throws away the q-tips and starts rinsing him down again.

"How _do _you know him anyway?" Becky asks as she lathers the dirty Bichon.

"I'm, well was, friends with his owner."

"Was?"

"Long story," Jazz replies; she hooks the spray nozzle on the wall, loops a lead around Ace's neck, and signals him to jump out of the tub and onto the drying table.

"So there's history," Becky says giving her a wry smile. "I'm interested."

Turning her back towards her, Jazz rolls her eyes and turns on the two loudest dryers. When she turns back to face Becky, she gestures she can't talk because of the noise and starts drying the unhappy Ace.

* * *

With nothing left to distract her at the end of the day, Jazz begins nervously pacing in front of Ace's crate as she waits for Terry to pick him up. She tried to find a way to seem busy so that when Terry comes by, she wouldn't be the one who walks Ace out; however, since Terry is cutting it close to closing time, Jazz has already finished all the necessary cleaning, restocking, and replenishing duties and finds herself unoccupied at the moment.

"Ace is ready to go home," Becky announces poking her head through the doorway.

"Can you take him out for me?" Jazz asks with pleading eyes.

"Sorry, _really_ busy with paperwork," Becky replies with a sly grin on her face.

Scowling at her, Jazz grabs Ace's leash and collar, and lets him out of the crate. She walks him to the doorway that leads into the reception area, but instead of walking through it, she pokes her head out surveying the area. She finds Terry leaning on the reception desk as he waits for the dog to show up; looking down at Ace, she drops the leash.

"Okay, go ahead, he's right over there," she whispers trying to coax Ace to run to Terry's side. Unfortunately for her, the dog doesn't move making her scowl at him. She tries pushing him out the door, but he only walks back to her side. Inwardly groaning, she picks up the leash. "You are no longer my friend," she says glaring at him, but he looks up at her with a contented face.

Taking in a deep breath, she bravely walks out and up to a grinning Terry. "Hi," she quietly greets handing him the leash.

"Hey," he replies taking it, but doesn't straighten up suggesting he's not ready to leave yet.

Looking away, she notices Becky standing behind the desk intently watching them with a smile on her face. So much for paperwork. "Well, he did good," Jazz starts glaring at Becky for a moment before returning her gaze to Terry. "And no one's missing a finger this time."

"It's been a while," Terry says ignoring Ace's performance report.

"Uh, yeah," Jazz replies and nervously shifts her weight to the other leg.

"You cut your hair," he casually points out.

Running a few fingers through her now short hair, she nods. "Yeah, it kept getting caught in the nail file."

"Nail file?" Terry asks with a raised brow not understanding what she means.

"It has this rotating head like a drill tip with a file on the end of it," she quietly explains looking down at her feet suddenly feeling embarrassed.

A small smile returns to Terry's face when he nods. "Well, I like it short."

Her eyes shoot up to study him for a moment. She can't understand why he seems so casual and even friendly given the circumstances, but then again he's probably just messing with her head. "Well, anyway," she starts taking a step back, "it's closing time, so..."

"How does dinner at seven sound?" He suddenly asks stopping her from walking away.

"Uh, tonight?" He nods. "Can't, sorry. I have plans with Henry," she replies trying to sound apologetic.

"I thought he was at a conference in Jersey and won't be back for another week," Becky suddenly speaks up before receiving a glare from Jazz and a grin from Terry.

"Must have slipped your mind," Terry says looking back at Jazz and straightening up. "See you tonight." Without giving her a chance to come up with another excuse, he tugs Ace's leash and walks out the door.

"Oh, what I would give to fire you right now," Jazz says glaring at Becky for the last time.

"You'll thank me later," Becky replies smiling.

-to be continued-feedback welcome-


	4. Dinner?

_**A/N: So many kind reviews! this is a great start! Olena, no, Jazz is just an employee, that's why she wishes she could fire Becky. Kingdomheartsandichigolover, hope this satiates a bit of your Batman need. Patricia, glad you're indecisive ;). FallenAngelx3, i hate to torture you, but all i can say is read on... Enjoy!**_

* * *

Emerging from the subway station, Terry looks around the almost deserted sidewalk before heading in the direction of Jazz's apartment. He decided to ditch his car for the evening hoping to surprise Jazz with the location he wants to take her. With hands in his pockets and a sly grin on his face, he takes his time walking the five blocks to her building. Allowing his mind to wander, he finds himself imagining how the evening might go. Either Jazz will turn it into a comical mess because of tense awkwardness she won't let go of, or she'll try to come up with a creative excuse as to why she has to break their… date.

Why did that word pop into his head? Frowning, he lowers his gaze to the floor. He could never see her as a date... could he? He only asked her out once way back when they first met, but that interest quickly died after they started working together. He wasn't even thinking of her in that sense even after she left, but he can't deny something's changed. He shakes his head hoping those thoughts will fly out of his ears leaving him alone. With only two blocks left, though, his phone suddenly buzzes to life in his pocket. Taking it out and reading the caller ID, he can't help but wince before answering it.

"Yeah?"

"Where are you?" Bruce's gruff voice asks.

"Westside; I thought I asked for the night off."

"Next time ask Spellbinder for one. Suit up; he should be close to your area."

"How close?" Before Bruce can reply, Spellbinder suddenly speeds by riding his familiar wasp vehicle with four police cars in close pursuit. "Uh, never mind," Terry replies before hanging up and running into a secluded alley to change.

* * *

Looking back at the clock hanging on the wall, Jazz lets out an annoyed sigh sinking deeper into her chair. Terry so far is fifteen minutes late. She looks down at her phone, but same as the last five times, there are no calls or messages. With another sigh, she rests her chin on a fist and rolls her eyes.

"Figures he wouldn't show," she mutters to the cat sitting across from her on the kitchen table. Sick of waiting, Jazz figures Terry must have either forgotten or is unexpectedly occupied meaning the evening is off. Getting up, she heads to the fridge to make a sandwich but ends up realizing that she's out of milk and eggs. Taking another quick look at the clock, she decides to make a quick trip to the convenience store. Ruining her carefully primped hair by pulling it up into a pony tail, she grabs her bag and heads out the door.

* * *

Batman finally catches up to the strangely clad criminal by a rooftop not too far from when he first saw him. He manages to tackle Spellbinder off of his wasp landing on the rooftop.

"Waste of my time," Batman grunts as he pushes himself off and takes out a pair of flexicuffs.

"Allow me to make it worth your while then," Spellbinder replies as he elbows Batman in the face. He scrambles to his feet when Batman falls back, and runs to the edge of the roof to wait for his wasp to pick him up.

Cursing under his breath, Batman quickly regains his footing and runs after Spellbinder; but when he's three feet away, Spellbinder suddenly pulls out a gun and fires hitting Batman in the shoulder. Letting out a short cry of pain, Batman hesitates and looks at his shoulder to find a needle sticking out. After he pulls it out though, his vision begins to blur, and he finds himself staggering to the ledge and holding on to it for support. From what he could tell from the hazy image in front of him, Spellbinder is still pointing the gun at him. Taking out a batarang, he tries his best to concentrate on his aim, but when he throws it, he misses by about a foot. Before he could try again though, darkness claims his mind and he loses consciousness tipping over the edge.

* * *

With her bag of milk and eggs in tow, Jazz starts heading back to her building, but the strobing red and blue lights of the police cars catch her attention. She stops to look around but doesn't find Batman anywhere near the cop cars. Shrugging with indifference, she turns and starts heading in the opposite direction back to her apartment. When she starts putting her earphones back in her ears though, a large black mass suddenly crashes on the parked car beside her spraying glass everywhere. Startled, she falls back dropping her bag and stares with wide eyes at the dented and mangled car. She looks around the empty street before getting up and cautiously walking over to the car. Her mouth drops in surprise when she finds herself staring at an unconscious Batman.

She turns her gaze upwards in time to find Spellbinder on his wasp and quickly dropping down to her level. Thinking quickly, she takes out her switch blade from her bag, and when Spellbinder is close enough, shoves the small blade into his vehicle's underside so he doesn't get a chance to do what he set out for. With his sparking waspmobile unpredictably jerking, Spellbinder curses under his breath as he tries to regain control before making his escape up into the night sky. Once he is out of sight, Jazz lets out a sigh of relief and turns her attention back to Batman. Before the cops can get a hint, she grabs his shoulders and drags him off the car and into the alley just behind her.

Laying him in the shadows behind a dumpster, she makes a quick examination of his limbs to make sure nothing broke after the long fall. That's when the needle he was shot with falls out of his hand and rolls over to Jazz's feet. Frowning, she picks it up and studies it before putting it away in her bag. She then starts to gently shake him awake.

"Hey, come on, wake up," she whispers gently slapping his face, but he doesn't move. Frowning, she takes a look out of the alley to find they're still alone. She brings her eyes to Batman's belt and nervously wrings her hands together. _'Please don't shock me,'_ she mentally requests as she slowly brings her finger down and presses the call button on his belt. Unfortunately though, after pressing it, the pain of getting electrified courses through her arm making her jump back and grab her hand.

"Son of a-!" She shouts putting her finger in her mouth, but luckily the attempt wasn't in vain.

In a few minutes, she could hear the powerful engine of the Batmobile approach before parking itself a few feet away from the two. Getting up, she walks over to the car only to stop with hesitation as she stares at the closed canopy. For it to open, she has to place her palm on the scanner, but if the car doesn't recognize her print, she's in for a worse electric shock. There is a chance that Bruce erased all the data on her, so the car will only see her as a threat, but that's only a chance; she isn't really sure if he did. She turns to look back at Batman still lying on the floor unconscious. Figuring he's been tranquilized, he will need to get back to the safety of the cave.

Letting out a low whimper, she turns back to the car, takes a deep breath and holds it, then extends her palm placing it on the palm reader. Wincing in anticipation, she waits for the result and is surprised to find the canopy invitingly slide open. Breathing a sigh of relief, she jumps in and calls the cave hoping Bruce will guide the car back. However, after waiting several minutes with no reply, she figures Bruce isn't near the cave and she'll have to be the one to drive the car back.

Jumping out, she moves back to Batman's side. Throwing his arm over her shoulder and placing a hand behind his back, she struggles to pull him up. "This is when 200lbs of muscle is a bad thing," she grunts as she drags him to the car. Throwing him halfway into the cockpit, she blows a puff of air upwards to get her bangs out of her eyes before she awkwardly eases Batman to the floor of the car. Jumping back into the driver's seat, she closes the canopy and sets off in the direction of the cave.

* * *

Darkness… everything that surrounds him shrouded in it… he's starting to panic because he can't move… he needs to move because something is coming… he doesn't know what it is… it just keeps coming… closer… closer…

"Hello, Batman," Blight's glowing green face suddenly appears before his laugh sets Terry over the edge, literally.

He finds himself free falling in the darkness and when he hits the bottom, his eyes shoot open and he almost jumps out of the hospital bed. With his breath still laboring, his wide eyes take a look around to find that he's within the safe walls of the damp cave. Throwing his legs over the edge of the bed, Terry grabs his throbbing head as he tries to remember what happened. He notices his mask and gloves have been pulled off and an IV sticks out of his hand.

"I'm assuming we're done here," he hears a familiar woman's voice say somewhere in the distance. Quickly realizing it's Jazz, Terry rips the IV catheter out of his hand and rushes over to the source of her voice. He hurries up the steps and reaches the main floor of the cave in time to see Jazz halfway up the flight of stairs leading to the exit.

"Jazz! Hang on!" He calls out making her stop and face him.

"Oh, you're up," she says sounding like she's been aggravated; but she doesn't move down to meet him, so instead he starts heading up to her.

"What happened?"

"I don't know," she shrugs. "You fell off a building and I brought you back here. How are you feeling?"

"Little sore," he replies rubbing the back of his neck. "Listen, sorry about tonight-"

"That's fine. I didn't expect you to make it anyway," she lies looking away. "Anyway, it's getting late."

"I'll give you a ride; it's the least I could do."

She looks up at him, then shifts her gaze to someone behind him. Terry turns his head to follow her gaze and finds Bruce seated at the console glaring up at the two. "No," Jazz finally replies. "I'll be fine."

Before he could change her mind, she hurries up the rest of the stairs and out the door leaving him a bit angry. He knows Bruce must have said something hurtful, or probably warned her to stay away from Terry; either way, he feels Bruce had no right to upset her like especially since she helped him. Heading back down to Bruce's level, Terry glares at his mentor as he approaches him.

"What did you say to her?" He asks accusingly.

"Nothing that concerns you. What happened tonight?"

"It does concern me when she runs out like that," Terry continues crossing his arms in front of him. "What did you say?"

Ignoring him, Bruce turns away and faces the monitor. "I analyzed the needle you had and it looks like nothing more than a basic tranquilizer, but we need to find out why Ira tranquilized you in the first place."

Terry, however, turns Bruce's chair so they face each other. "Bruce, what did you say?" He asks for a third time clearly infuriated.

For a moment, the two men glower at each other before Terry gets the hint that Bruce isn't willing to talk. With clenched fists, Terry turns away and storms off toward an alcove. "Where do you think you're going?"

"Anywhere away from here," he shoots back without stopping.

-to be continued-feedback welcome-


	5. A Pair of Insomniacs

**_A/N: can i just express how much i love getting reviews? well, i LOVE getting reviews :D thanks go out to all those who took the time to press that button and type their thoughts. This chapter is short, but its building up to something a bit bigger, which will be clearer in the next chapter ;). This chappie is more about character development though, so not as much action, in case that's what you were hoping. But those who have been waiting for a been of Jazz and Ter interaction, read on! enjoy!_**

* * *

Every time sleep claimed Terry's mind, nightmares of Blight bring him back to the waking world. After four failed attempts, a very tired and aggravated Terry gives up and gets out of bed to find the night sky brightening into early dawn. Running a hand into his disheveled hair, he shuffles to the bathroom, turns on the cold water and splashes his face a few times. Leaning on the sink, he looks up at his reflection to find dark, puffy eyes staring back. Straightening up, he lets out a long yawn as he heads to the kitchen to make a jug full of coffee.

After turning on the coffee maker, he takes a seat at the kitchen table and bends over to rest his forehead on folded arms. He doesn't know why Blight has been terrorizing his dreams recently. The last time he had a run in with him was years ago, so why now all of a sudden? He thinks back to their last encounter in the submarine. Blight never showed his biohazardous face since then, but Terry knows he's hiding somewhere; hiding from all the ruin he's caused, from the people he's killed. Terry's fists clench with self-hatred. He failed to stop Blight himself, and because of his carelessness that night, he may never find out where Blight is so he could deliver what he deserves. He was so naïve; a kid siding with Paxton, of all people, to take down his father's murderer. What the hell was he thinking?

"Yeah, what were you thinking, you stupid kid?" Blight's voice suddenly taunts Terry startling him awake. Shooting up, Terry realizes he fell asleep at the table.

"Damn it," he curses frustrated at how hard it is to get much needed rest.

Pouring a large mug of black coffee, he takes it into the living room and turns on the television. It's still too early for the news, so instead he settles on the tacky infomercials. It isn't long before his heavy lids close, but as soon as he starts dreaming, Blight's haunting laugh once again opens his heavily bloodshot eyes.

"Why now?" He groans tiredly dropping his head back.

* * *

Turning over in bed for the umpteenth time, Jazz lets out an annoyed sigh and props up on her elbows. The past night's events kept playing in her head keeping her up most of the night. With the clock reading 5:03 am, Jazz reluctantly pulls herself out of bed. There's no way she'll fall asleep now, so might as well start her day a few hours earlier than usual. After setting up her coffee maker, she leans on the counter giving Zee a chance to rub against her legs and purr for treats. She smiles at the grey tabby but doesn't give in to his demands.

But the cat's efforts to please her don't take her mind off of Terry. From what she gathered the previous night, Terry was careless enough to let Spellbinder tranquilize him. The realization worries her; what would have happened if she wasn't there to help him? She thought he would have been better off without her considering he's done the job for years before she came along, but apparently she was wrong. Spellbinder isn't someone who poses as a real threat, a nuisance yes, but not as dangerous as Inque for example; yet Terry managed to get into serious trouble with him.

Her eyes slowly shift to her phone sitting on the table in the middle of the kitchen. She should give him a call, check up on him… maybe reschedule their dinner date. The corner of her mouth turns up in thought; she's worried about how it would go considering she's been ignoring him for three months. Although she's afraid he might be holding a grudge, a voice in the back of her head whispers she's wrong, that he's not that type of guy. Making up her mind, she moves to pick up her phone and dial Terry's number.

* * *

The infomercial about a magical cleaner that is versatile enough to clean any surface, including human skin, has been going on for a half hour and the Australian host only seems to be getting louder with each surprised exclamation. Bored, tired, and irritated, Terry is halfway through his second cup of coffee before a faint sound catches his attention. Muting the TV, he realizes his phone is ringing from somewhere in his room. He gets up and walks to his room, but by the time he finds his phone hidden underneath the sheets, his voicemail picks up the call. When he checks the name of the caller though, his bored eyes suddenly perk up.

* * *

A little disappointed that Terry didn't pick up, she ends the call without leaving a message and sets the phone back on the table. She figures it's a good thing considering she's calling a little too early in the morning; that and she has no idea how to explain herself if he did pick up.

"_Oh, well I'm just calling at 5:30 in the morning to see how you're doing_," Jazz says mocking her own tone. "Yeah, great idea, huh Zee?" She asks looking over at the purring cat seated on the floor. Zee lets out a loud meow in reply and starts rubbing against her legs again.

She frowns at the treat seeking pet before getting up to fill her mug with coffee. However, just as she reaches for a mug, her phone starts buzzing startling her. Quickly reaching for it, she realizes Terry is calling back and hesitates for a second before answering.

"Hello?"

"You called?" Terry smoothly asks.

"Uh, yeah, sorry, I didn't realize it was so early."

"I was up," he replies sounding a lot more relaxed than her.

"Oh, uh, how come?" She asks trying not to sound nervous.

"I woke up and couldn't get back to sleep." After a silent moment passes, Terry gets the idea that Jazz must have called him on a whim. To ease her anxiety, he clears his throat and asks, "so, how come you're up?"

"Suffered the same fate as you," she replies sitting down.

"I guess we have an epidemic on our hands," he jokes lightening the mood.

"Oh, funny guy," Jazz says with a smile. Relaxing, she finds the courage to ask, "so, how are you feeling?"

"Tired; it's a common symptom," Terry replies easing back into his couch.

"No, I meant after last night."

"Oh, fine. Got away with some cuts and bruises."

"I get the feeling you're lying," Jazz suddenly says before she could stop herself. "Uh, sorry, shouldn't have said that," she quickly apologizes before he gets the chance to react.

"Why not?"

"Um, I don't know. Just, uh, I just thought since… er," Jazz stutters trying to think of an excuse. Because of the way she left, she feels she lost the privilege to speak to him about such personal matters.

"Wow, Jazz, relax." Silence is the reply that brings back the uneasiness. "Is there something bothering you?" He asks hoping Jazz won't retreat into her shell.

"No," she quietly lies.

'_Damn it, I'm losing her.' _Uncomfortably shifting in his seat, he straightens up and tries a different strategy. "Do you have work today?"

"No, I'm off. Why?"

"Feel like taking a run with me?" The quiet moment that follows makes Terry grip his phone with anticipation. "Jazz?"

"I don't-"

"It's just a run, nothing more," Terry tries convincing her.

Hearing the plea in his voice, she lets out a defeated sigh. "Where do you want to meet?"

Smiling with relief, he replies, "I'll pick you up in half an hour." Without wasting anytime, Terry shoots up off the couch to throw on his running clothes.

After setting her phone down, she looks over at Zee with a nervous smile on her face. "Still want a treat?"

-to be continued-feedback welcome-


	6. Just a Harmless Run

_**A/N: Well, this is a chapter i feel many of you will get all giddy about. it took me a while to finish mainly because i was not satisfied with it. even now i'm a little iffy, but it told me it was ready, and i trust my chappie's judgement... no, i'm still sane, so far. anyway, please review, even if you only have 3 words to say. 3 words can go a long way and i appreciate anything i get. and without further delay, here we go!**_

* * *

Stopping in front of her building, Terry finds Jazz seated on the building's steps dressed in a pair of blue shorts and grey shirt. He gets out of the car and waves to get her attention; jumping to her feet, she walks over to the passenger side of the car and gets in before they drive away.

"Hi," she warmly greets putting her water bottle in the cup holder.

"Hey, glad you came," Terry replies smiling at her unexpected confidence.

"We've never gone running at 6 before."

"First time for everything."

"Where are we going?"

"Mountain trail."

"Training for an upcoming battle?" She asks partly as a joke and secretly hoping he won't say yes.

"No, apparently my skills have been slacking."

A wave of guilt hits her. "Slacking?"

Taking a quick glance, he notices the worry etched into her brow. "It's not a big deal," he tries reassuring. It doesn't cheer her up, but it does remind her of the night before and how easily she managed to commandeer the Batmobile.

"By the way, how is it the Batmobile still has my palm print info?" she asks looking at him. "I thought Bruce would have gotten rid of that data."

"Uh, he did actually," he replies suddenly paying a lot more attention to the empty streets. "I, er, put it back."

Confused, Jazz frowns at him. "And Bruce let you?"

"Not exactly," Terry answers wincing. "He didn't really know."

"No wonder he was so pissed to see me," Jazz mumbles crossing her arms. "Why'd you put it back?"

"I, uh…" His voice trails off when he realizes he doesn't have an explanation, well, a logical one at least. So instead of trying to defend himself, he changes the subject. "What happened between you two anyway?" He asks stealing a side glance before turning onto the interstate.

"Nothing," Jazz quietly answers.

"Jazz," he lightly scolds.

Although she is about to shut the topic down, the sight of Terry's concerned face changes her mind. She lets out a sigh and recounts the night. "After I got you back to the cave, Bruce wasn't happy to see I was the one jumping out of the car and even more pissed to see you passed out because of a tranquilizer. After we set you up in the medic station, Bruce started rounding on me saying I shouldn't have interfered. He never said it, but I got the feeling he was blaming me for your mistakes," she looks down at her restless fingers, "and that he doesn't want me around you."

Furiously clenching the steering wheel, Terry can't believe Bruce had the audacity to approach Jazz that way. Before he can think of ways to throw it in Bruce's face, Jazz interrupts his thoughts. "Look, he had every right to say what he did."

"No he didn't," Terry counters trying to keep his cool. "They're _my_ damn mistakes; _I_ made them, not you."

"But you didn't make them before I left," Jazz quietly argues bringing the avoided issue into full light.

An uneasy moment passes making Jazz squirm in her seat and Terry regret they ever brought up the subject. He doesn't want to discuss mistakes or why he made them; he'd rather have an ice pick shoved through his temple than explain himself. He takes the exit that leads them up a smaller and winding highway. As the sporadic trees start increasing and the claustrophobic buildings decrease, Terry knows he only has fifteen minutes before they reach their destination. He doesn't want to ruin the run because of the looming tension, so he decides to do the thing that comes easiest to him: lighten the mood. Changing the subject is the best game plan he can come up with.

"So, dog grooming," he starts in a casual tone. "That's an interesting career path."

"I needed experience handling pets," she shrugs looking ahead.

She hasn't taken the bait yet, so Terry presses on. "You like it there?"

"It has its moments."

"Like what?"

She raises a brow at him. "What do you mean?"

"You said it has its moments. Tell me one of them."

She has reason to be a little taken back; no one has expressed much interest in her job after she explains what it is, even Henry wouldn't go past the "how was your day" question. "Uh, I don't know. Can't think of any off the top of my head."

"Liar," Terry accuses with a smile.

"Alright," she says giving in. "Well, we had this one dog that was covered in mats and dirt, and I ended up being the one who had to bathe and brush him out."

As she tells the story without sparing a single detail, Terry notices she's returning to the familiar friend he knows. She begins gesturing with her hands to add a more dramatic effect to her story, and laughs before she gets to the more comical parts making Terry smile at her. He didn't realize how much he missed talking to her until then; the last time they shared a moment like this was in the music room during her daily piano lesson. At the time, the lessons were a crucial band aide that saved their faltering friendship. It worked better than expected, and it didn't take long before the two warmed up to each other. It's one reason Terry didn't hold a grudge against her for quitting.

After an animated ten minute storytelling, Jazz finally finishes with a satisfied sigh and a comfortable smile. "And that's only _one_ moment?" Terry asks setting off another laugh from Jazz.

"I never said they were short moments. Are you complaining, McGinnis?"

"No, I just never expected giving a dog a bath would be such an adventure," he quips as he drives through the gates of the nature reserve. He parks his car in the nearby lot, and the two get out to walk side by side up the trail.

Jazz takes in a deep breath of mountain air and slowly lets it out. "This was a good idea."

"Of course it was," Terry replies. "It was mine, after all."

Although she rolls her eyes at him, her smile doesn't fade. They find a viewing deck a few feet into the walk and decide to stop there to stretch out. "Hope you're not out of shape," Terry says as he anchors a heel to a post and leans forward stretching his hamstring. "This is a pretty rough trail."

"Is that worry I smell?" Jazz asks as she bends forward almost touching her forehead to her knees.

"Just looking out for you, Douglas."

A sudden warmth fills Jazz's cheeks, but she quickly dismisses it, and blames the reaction on her bent head. "Don't worry; Henry and I manage to run together a few times a week."

"Still with Henry?" He asks as he stretches his shoulders.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She straightens up and frowns at him.

"Nothing," he quickly replies turning his torso from side to side. "It was just a question."

Although she eyes him suspiciously, she continues with her warm up exercises, and grabs her ankle and pulls her leg back onto her thigh. "Why are you asking?"

He shrugs. "I haven't seen you in three months, so I thought it was a valid question. Why are you so paranoid?"

"I'm not; it's just a random question."

He raises a brow at her. The first time she told him she was seeing Henry, he got a little defensive, and now it seems that reaction is still affecting her. "Whatever," he finally sighs with indifference. "Ready?"

After hopping a few times in place and rolling her neck, she nods and the two set off up the dusty path.

* * *

After an hour of running up a rough and changing incline, the two finally reach the top of the mountain overlooking the city. At the end of the trail are a few benches and another viewing deck with a scope and drinking fountain.

"Now _that_… was a workout," Jazz pants bending over and propping her hands on her knees. Laughing and panting at the same time, Terry takes a seat on a nearby bench and stretches out his arms and legs. "Beats city running… any day."

"Unless you're… leaping from… buildings that is," Terry says letting his head loll back.

Straightening up, Jazz moves to his side and joins him on the bench. She stretches her legs out and rests her hands on the top of her head. "I miss doing that."

Lifting his head, he turns to look at her. "You do?"

"Yeah. The adrenaline rush, the views, the heightened senses. Nothing like it."

For a moment, Terry is lost for words; he had no intentions of bringing up the issue of her resignation today, but now, that's the only question screaming in his head. Nervously rubbing the back of his neck, he wonders if he should say what's on his mind. But before he could make a decision, Jazz makes it for him.

"I know you're wondering why I left," She starts without moving.

"Uh, I wasn't going to bring it up," Terry replies resting his arm back on the bench.

"I know." She lowers her arms and rests them on her stomach. For a quiet moment, the two turn their gaze to the city to watch the morning mist lift and dissipate in the rising heat of the day. "It wasn't an easy decision," Jazz finally starts.

"Why'd you make it?" Terry cautiously asks looking at her.

She bites her lip as she looks down at fiddling fingers. "I… I can't…" The difficulty of trying to explain herself makes her stand up and walk away. Terry doesn't follow her, but he leans forward resting his elbows on his knees to watch her nervously pace a few feet away from him. "I didn't think you… I mean I was… it's just… I don't know!" She finally exclaims stopping to face him.

"You don't know?" Terry asks with a raised brow.

"I do, but I don't know where to start or what to say," she confesses looking away.

Terry can sense that the topic is more sensitive than he initially thought. "Look, you don't have to," Terry calmly reassures surprising her. "When you're ready to talk about it, just let me know."

"Just like that?" She asks still shocked.

"Yeah. Why is that so hard to believe?"

"It's more like unexpected. You deserve to know more."

"Yeah, but I'm not going to force it out of you."

"That's one thing that's bothering me; why aren't you?"

Terry shrugs. "You're not trying to take over the world, so I don't see a need for an interrogation," he says cracking a smile to lighten the mood. Getting up, he asks, "so, ready to head down?"

She doesn't smile as she nods, but when she turns to start heading down the path, Terry grabs her elbow and spins her around. He is about to deliver a speech that might help lift her spirits, but the look on her face stops him from saying anything. The grey eyes staring up at him are full of disappointment, not in him, but in herself. She looks desperate for reconciliation, but afraid to seek it. In response, he does the first thing that comes to mind: hug her. Wrapping his arms around her shoulders, he pulls her close holding her tight. Although surprised at first, she accepts the gesture, and even returns it when she buries her face in his chest and wraps her arms around his waist.

Holding her in his arms, a sense of comfort overtakes Terry. He's been worried about her for months, unsure of where she was, why she never called, and most of all, why she left. But now, with her leaning against him and returning the embrace, his anxiety finally crumbles away. She may not have confided in him today, but at the moment, it's not what he cares about. He's simply happy she's with him. The realization, however, brings an unexpected flutter in his stomach that he hasn't felt in years. He's the first one to slightly pull away making Jazz look up with grateful eyes this time. Suddenly aware of his quickening breath and his heart beating in his ears, he lets go of her and takes a step back.

"Uh, we uh, we should get going," he manages to utter putting a hand to the back of his neck.

Jazz can feel the blood rushing into her cheeks, but before Terry notices it, she quickly turns around and starts heading down the trail. When he catches up to her, she makes sure to keep her eyes glued to either the ground or the foliage surrounding them. As they walk down the unpaved path, Jazz replays the earlier event in her head in an attempt to figure out why her cheeks blushed and her stomach tightened. Yes, she missed him, but she hadn't developed feelings for him, right?

'_I'm dating Henry, for crying out loud!'_ She shouts in her head clenching her jaw. Blowing a puff of air into her bangs to get them out of her eyes, she starts thinking of logical reasons to explain why she reacted to Terry's embrace that way. It can't be because of the exercise; they had already cooled down after the run. It can't be the weather either; the morning still holds a bit of cold but without a breeze. Can it be allergies? But since when did she get allergies?

'_It was just a fluke,'_ she tries convincing herself. _'I just miss Henry, that's all. Yeah, that makes sense.'_

"Careful," Terry suddenly cautions grabbing her waist and pulling her closer to him. Her heart leaps to her throat when their sides touch and her eyes shoot up to look at his face.

"What?"

"Loose rocks," he replies letting go of her.

Following his gaze, she spots the downward sloping pebbles that she would have slipped on if it hadn't been for him. "Thanks," she mutters swallowing the lump in her throat and putting distance between her and Terry. _'A fluke my ass.'_

* * *

Terry manages to find a parking spot across the street from Jazz's apartment. The ride back to Gotham was a quiet one with each person lost in their own thoughts, but when the car stops at the final destination, the two exchange looks.

"This was fun," Jazz starts before she realizes that's something she usually says after a date. Inwardly cringing, she grabs her empty water bottle and moves to open her door.

"Hey," Terry starts stopping her from pulling the handle. "Max is having a party tonight; thought you might like to come."

"Uh, I don't know if that's a good idea."

"Why not?"

Before Jazz can respond, Terry suddenly winces in pain and puts a hand on his forehead. "Terry? You okay?" She asks frowning with concern.

"Yeah, just a headache," he replies rubbing the sides of his head.

"You're probably dehydrated. You should come upstairs."

"No, I'll be fine," he replies squeezing his eyes shut.

"I don't think so. Come on," she orders getting out of the car and walking to his side.

She opens his door and holds out a hand which he takes. He manages to get to her floor without needing any help, but when the elevator doors open and he steps out, his energy suddenly drains. He reaches for Jazz's shoulder to stop from falling over worrying her even more. She helps him through her apartment door, and reluctantly lets go of him once inside to fetch a bottle of aspirin and a sports drink from the kitchen. However, when she reaches for the drink, a loud thud originating from the living room grips her heart. Rushing out of the kitchen, her eyes go wide when she finds Terry unconscious and face down on the floor.

-to be continued-feedback welcome-


	7. Dazed and Confused

**_A/N: Patricia, all i can say is wait and see what happens. i don't like ruining romance because taking the journey to how they end up together is more fun when you're oblivious to the destination. with my crazy twists now and again who knows what's going to happen between the two muahahahaha!_**

**_FallenAngelx3, mmmm read on :D_**

**_Mistoflees, thank you! i'm glad you enjoyed it! i try to make it enjoyable as much as possible._**

**_Olena, thank you too! i always worry about rushing certain aspects of the story because i do have readers who want to see them happen at this moment, but i don't necessarily feel the same way. this though felt right and about time it happened. and btw, you're in luck. i've been working on this chappie for a while and tonight is when i decided to post it, so you won't have to wait long. i'm actually pleasantly surprised to hear Jazz is in the top 3 favorite characters, that's one of the best compliments i've heard so far, especially since i'm terrible at updating._**

**_i take a while between updates sometimes because life tends to get in the way (it's so pesky sometimes), or i'm just not feeling the content i'm writing so i start all over again, as i've done with this. originally i was going to take this in a whole different direction, but only yesterday did i get smacked in the face with an epifany. i'm actually a bit excited to post it, so here goes!_**

**_Thanks for all the kind reviews! always looking forward for more!_**

* * *

Panicked eyes dart from left to right taking in the surrounding dark environment; somehow, he's no longer in Jazz's small apartment. Instead, he finds himself standing in the middle of a dingy, windowless room; unsure of what to make of his current situation, Terry takes on a defensive attitude. He has the feeling something isn't right, he isn't safe, his mind feels hazy and he can't clear it. He takes careful steps forward, but the sound of his footsteps makes him stop and look down at his feet.

Terry frowns with confusion when he recognizes the boots of the Batsuit before he switches his gaze to his chest where the red mark confirms his suspicion. He may not remember putting the suit on, but he's pretty sure his footsteps sound different than usual; something is definitely off. He takes another quick look around the room and finds a computer monitor glowing on the other end. Before he can use it to answer the questions flying around in his mind, a familiar voice stops him cold making the hairs on his neck bristle.

"Hello, Batman," Blight sneers from behind him.

Spinning to face him, Batman glares at the first enemy he made. "Blight," Batman returns with a tightened jaw.

"Been a while hasn't it," he continues unaffected by Batman's threatening presence. With hands held behind his back, he slowly begins circling Batman. "I bet you're wondering how it is I found you here." Batman doesn't respond as his eyes lock onto Blight's. "Unfortunately for you, I think some things should be kept a mystery," he continues with a menacing look on his face. "But one thing I can reveal," he stops and turns towards him to hold up a hand before a ball of radiation suddenly forms in it. "I'm ready for round two." With a grin on his face, his arm shoots forward hurling the ball in Batman's direction.

Diving out of the way, Batman rolls into a forward summersault landing crouched. When he flicks his wrist to call out a batarang, nothing happens making his eyes widen with fear. He tries again and gets the same response. Before another glowing green ball hits him, Batman jumps out of the way and runs across the room towards a door he hadn't noticed before. He tries the handle only to find it locked. With nothing to offer him cover in this room, Batman knows he needs an escape, fast. One powerful kick forces the door swings open before Batman runs through it just as Blight fires another ball missing his head by inches.

To buy some time, he closes the door, grabs a coat rack from a corner, and wedges the post between the floor and the handle jamming the door. Quickly turning his attention to his suit, Batman once again flicks both wrists trying to get out a batarang. When nothing yields, he looks down at his belt and opens a compartment only to find it empty. Panicked and confused, he begins cursing with each compartment that turns up empty.

'_What the hell is going on?'_ he asks himself before a bang at the door makes him look up. Afraid he'll have to face a dangerous monster without the help of weapons, Batman takes a quick look around the room in search of something he could use to keep distance between him and the glowing health hazard. Unfortunately though, this room is almost as bare as the last. With only a torn up couch, a dusty rug, and the coat hanger furnishing the room, he realizes he doesn't have a lot of options.

Cursing for the last time, he decides the coat rack is his best choice right now. Plastering his body against the wall by the door, he takes a deep breath and dislodges the pole allowing the door to swing open the second time Blight bangs on it. With Batman hiding behind the door, Blight doesn't notice him when he first walks in.

"Really, Batman? Don't you think you're a little too old to be playing games?" He taunts looking around the seemingly empty room.

As Blight carefully walks around the couch checking to see if he is behind it, Batman pushes the door and hurls the coat rack in Blight's direction hitting the back of his head. Without wasting another precious second, Batman takes advantage of the confusion and rushes at Blight. He leaps onto the couch to get some height before kicking Blight straight in the jaw. When his foe takes a few steps back to recuperate, Batman continues his attack closing the distance between them and delivering a few more punches to the face and gut.

Losing his footing, Blight topples backwards giving Batman the chance to deliver a final blow, but an enfolding darkness stops his fist in midair. Before he realizes what's happening, Blight and the surrounding room drown in shadows, and Batman suddenly finds himself freefalling again. Turning his body over in mid air, he instinctively shields his face and head with his arms before he hits an invisible ground.

When Terry's eyes open, he quickly shoots up only to have his head collide with something as hard as rock forcing him back down and holding a hand against his throbbing head.

"Ow! Motherfff-," a familiar female voice cries out in pain making him sit up again.

Although his vision is a bit blurry, he can see Jazz sitting beside him on the floor and vigorously rubbing her forehead. "Jazz?" He asks finding his breath laboring. He takes a quick look around to discover he's back in her apartment and lying on the floor.

"Terry!" She exclaims looking at him with wide eyes.

"What the hell just happened?" He tries standing up, but Jazz stops him.

"Woah, take it easy. How do you feel?"

"A bit dizzy, but I'm fine. What happened?" He asks again.

"You passed out for some reason," she replies looking more worried than he expected.

He picks up on her obvious distress. "What is it?"

"You should go to a hospital," she hesitantly replies.

"Why? I feel fine."

"Henry said I should take you."

"Henry?" He asks sounding more insulted than anything else. "You called Henry?"

She nervously shifts to a kneeling position. "I got worried. You didn't show signs of heatstroke or dehydration, so I didn't know what to do."

"I'm fine," he reassures again this time getting up.

"You mind telling me what happened then?" She asks rising with him.

"I'm not really sure," he replies checking to see if the beadbutt with Jazz made him bleed. "Why were you leaning over me?" He asks after his fingertips turn up clean.

"I was going to check your pupils," she explains holding up a tiny flashlight.

"Oh," he takes a seat on the couch. "You should call Henry back; tell him I'm fine."

"Uh, sure," she replies eying him suspiciously before picking up her phone from the floor. "You sure you're okay?"

"I could use some aspirin," he replies rubbing his temples.

After she disappears into the kitchen, his brow furrows in thought. He vividly remembers every detail of his dream which is unusual. He doesn't even know if he should classify his experience as a dream; it felt so real, the musty air of that room, the heat from Blight's radiation balls, but it never happened. The only time he's felt something like this, like he was in a different world, was when he got flashed by Spellbinder. He has to be responsible for this is some way, but how? He doesn't remember getting flashed the last time he saw him, and Bruce said the tranquilizer was clean.

"Something's not right," he mumbles to himself.

"What?" Jazz asks; Terry didn't notice her walk back to his side until she spoke up.

"Nothing," he quickly replies taking the medicine she's holding. After swallowing two pills, he sets the bottle down and stands to leave. "I have to go, but can I call you later?"

"Yeah, sure," she replies stepping aside. "Are you okay to drive?"

"Anyone ever call you a worrywart?" He asks managing a small smile and walking past her.

"Just looking out for you, McGinnis," she replies returning a not too confidant smile. After saying their farewells, Terry heads back to his car and drives off.

* * *

"Perfect," Spellbinder's satisfied voice echoes through the dank room.

He pushes away from the computer and moves to the next room to stare at the synthoid still lying on the ground. The experiment went better than expected, which means he could be using his new technology as soon as tomorrow night. Good news for someone anxiously waiting to make a debut at the art museum's unveiling of priceless artifacts; and this time, he's sure Batman won't be there to interfere ruining his plans.

"I'll just try not to have too much fun," he says laughing to himself before turning away to modify his new equipment.

-to be continued-feedback welcome-


	8. Something's Not Right

**_A/N: well, i finally completed chapter 8 after a pretty long break. sometimes, i just can't get myself to sit down and come up with something, so unfortunately these long pauses between chapters are inevitable. anyway, i hope everyone is like this so far. i'm trying to mess with beloved Terry as much as possible before i set things right again. I wonder if anyone has figured out the plot yet; i'm not trying to keep it a secret, but i'm not exactly giving it away either. now, enough blabber, ENJOY!_**

* * *

"I'll be there in a few minutes," Terry reassures Max over the phone. He forgot that her farewell party started a half hour ago, and had rushed to get ready before she called.

"Are you sure?"

"_Yes_," he stresses rolling his eyes as he scrambles to find his keys. "I'm three exits away," he lies as he lifts the couch cushions.

"You're still on the highway?"

"Just relax, have a drink. I promise I will be there."

"You better be, McGinnis. Everyone's already here, so hurry up."

"See you in a bit," he says dialing off and curses inwardly when he doesn't find the keys. "Where the hell did I put them?"

* * *

With a covered casserole dish cradled under one arm, Jazz presses the elevator call button and walks into one that takes her up to Terry's floor. On the ride up, she nervously shifts her weight as she contemplates whether or not she should be doing this. Before she can reach a decision, the elevator doors slide open and she steps out onto the floor. However, instead of moving towards his apartment, she looks back at the closing doors unsure if this is a good idea.

She's been worried about him ever since his collapse this morning, and he didn't seem himself after he left. The reason she's standing in this dimly lit hallway is to find out why his demeanor changed, why he seems different now. However, she can't help but hesitate simply because she still feels she's no longer entitled to be that close to him anymore. Batgirl was her only reason for knowing him and having to see him daily, and since that's no more, there's no other reason to keep up with that friendship.

However, she has already made it this far; better get this over with than regret it later. Taking in a deep breath, she walks towards the door and holds up a fist to knock but, once again, her anxiety stops her.

'_This is stupid,' _she thinks to herself as she shakes her head. When she turns to leave, the door suddenly swings open, startling her. She spins to face Terry, who is just as surprised to see her standing in front of him.

"Uh, hi," she stutters scratching the back of her neck. With his brows raised, he switches his gaze between Jazz's face and the dish in her hand. "Yeah – uh – I got, well made you something," she says holding out the dish. He takes it and lifts the foil to find a perfectly cooked tuna casserole inside. The corner of his mouth turns up in a half smile before he looks back at Jazz, who has her hands held behind her back and weight shifting from one leg to another. "I noticed you," she pauses to clear her throat, "you lost some weight, so I – uh – made you-"

"Why are you so nervous?" Terry cuts in. Before she can answer, he walks back into his apartment to put the food in his fridge. Rather than look silly by waiting in the hallway, she follows him in and closes the door behind her.

"I'm not nervous," she replies standing in the kitchen. Terry scowls at her not buying the lie. "Anyway, you looked like you were in a hurry, so I'll just go."

"Why'd you come?" Terry asks leaning on the counter to make it clear that he's not going anywhere at the moment.

"The casserole," she replies pointing to the fridge.

"Yeah, and?" He crosses his arms over his chest waiting for her reply.

"And to check up on you," she sighs giving in.

"I told you I was fine."

"You lie just as bad as I do," Jazz replies, this time with more confidence.

Terry stands silent for a moment as he stares back at Jazz before he straightens up. "You were right, I was in a hurry."

Getting the curt message, Jazz turns towards the door, hiding her disappointment. "I should go. Sorry I barged in like this."

"Do you have work tomorrow?" Terry unexpectedly asks as he straightens up and follows Jazz to the door.

"Yeah, why?" After stepping out into the hallway, she watches him lock his door and follow him to the elevator.

"I still owe you dinner, remember?"

"You never owed it in the first place," Jazz returns as they step off on the ground floor.

"A gentleman always keeps his promise," Terry replies with a cocky grin making Jazz fail at repressing a smile. "I'll pick you up at 7?" He asks letting her lead the way out the front door.

Stepping out onto the sidewalk, she turns to face him. "Why do you still want to do dinner?"

He wants to tell her it's because he still misses spending time with her, to reconnect, that whether or not she's Batgirl has nothing to do with why he wants to keep in touch with her, but it seems all he can do is shove his hands in his pockets and shrug.

The two hold their gaze for a moment before Jazz slowly nods accepting his reply. "I guess I'll see you tomorrow," she says giving him a small smile before turning to head towards a subway station.

Running a hand through his hair, Terry lets out a relieved sigh. Her visit was unexpected but in a good way. Feeling a bit elated, he turns on his heal and walks towards his parked car.

* * *

Being reduced to an outdated computer is so insulting to Ira's genius intellect. Actually, come to think of it, everything in this world is insulting; having to deal with self-centered teenagers to barely make a living, the police questioning him like he's some kind of brain damaged patient, and being brought down by Batman with just the use of brute force; like a Neanderthal. How primitive. Mom always said the pen is mightier than the sword, and mom is always right. How else can you turn a person against himself?

The thought brings an eerie smile to Ira's face as he takes his seat in front of the 4 inch thick computer monitor. That nano-tech he invented is working like a charm, sending him feedback on the hormone levels in Batman's body. The smile on the psychologist's face however, disappears when he reads the latest graphs. Cortisol levels have decreased in the last fifteen minutes. Without that stress hormone, his experiment won't work. Since sleep deprivation doesn't seem to affect Batman anymore, Ira tries a different tactic.

"Time to take it a bit further." Typing in a few figures, Ira sends the signal to the nano-tech coursing through Terry's veins before sitting back and smiling as he waits for the results. "Enjoy."

* * *

Terry finally makes it onto the freeway starting the short trip to Max's apartment. With the road almost empty, he lets his mind wander back to the unexpected meeting with Jazz. A smile creeps on his face when he realizes that she made him, of all things, a tuna casserole. It's the first dish she ever cooked for him and the first time he realized she had a talent for transforming the most bland and tasteless food into an edible and even enjoyable meal. Giving her piano lessons was not just a way to thank her, but return the favor. They shared good times on that piano bench; if only they could keep at it.

As he drives down the highway, a sudden feeling of uneasiness takes over. Finding it strange, he straightens up in his seat and takes a quick look around him wondering if it was a subtle trigger from the environment that set him off. His eyes dart between the side mirrors and the road before he takes a final look into the rearview mirror. When nothing strange turns up behind him, he shrugs it off; but when he locks his eyes back onto the road, his headlights shine on a panicked woman in a light blue dress standing in the middle of his lane.

Terry slams on his brakes and swerves away from her, but he loses control of the car sending it crashing into the concrete barrier before coming to a skidding halt. Disoriented, he pushes away the front and side airbags before remembering the look on that strange woman's face. Grunting with pain, he quickly takes off his seat belt and climbs out of the broken window to look for her.

"Hello?" He calls out turning in place for a sign of the woman, but the street lights show no hints of anyone who could have been there. He walks over to the edge of the highway wondering maybe while he crashed she might have jumped off the side, but that isn't the case either. Putting a hand to his throbbing head, he tries to remember what she might have looked like. Black hair, pale skin… Asian eyes.

'_No, no way it could have been her,'_ he tries convincing himself. _'She left; she can't be here.' _He turns his gaze to his now mangled car sitting on the side of the road. Lowering his hand, he realizes that his head is bleeding. Before he could walk back to his car, an SUV speeds by startling him. He watches the car quickly slow down and a head pop out from the window.

"Hey! Are you okay?" The concerned voice asks, but when Terry doesn't answer, the driver steps out of the car and approaches him. "Do you need any help?" He tries again when he notices Terry looking lost and distant. "Jesus, you're bleeding! I'll call you an ambulance, just don't-"

"No," Terry suddenly answers shaking away the shock. "No, I'm fine. It's just a graze."

"Man, you're lucky to be alive," the stranger says looking at Terry's car. Both sides of it are crushed and the hood is pushed in reducing it to half its length. "Do you want me to call anyone for you?"

"No, I'll be fine. Thanks for the concern," Terry absently replies as he walks over to the car.

"Well, as long as you're sure," he replies hesitating before walking back to his car and driving away.

"Never said I was sure," Terry mumbles as he reaches into the window looking for his phone. Finding it wedged between the gear shift and his seat, he manages to pull it out and call his mentor. "Bruce," he starts sounding more distraught than he wanted. "Something's seriously wrong with me."

-to be continued-feedback welcome-


	9. Take It for a Spin

_**A/N: So, i hope readers like this chapter; i'm having second thoughts about it, but that's because i've been marinating on it for too long. so, um, enjoy?**_

The cut above Terry's brow isn't serious, so after cleaning it, he applies a band-aid before joining Bruce by the console. "Nothing; again," Bruce starts pointing at the screen. After arriving to the cave, Terry demanded Bruce take a blood sample to check for something, anything that would explain the strange phenomena he's been experiencing.

"It doesn't make any sense."

Bruce lets out a tired sigh and rubs the bridge of his nose. "Terry, there is another explanation."

"Lack of sleep isn't it," Terry replies glaring at him.

"Except it fits. You said it yourself; you've been having trouble sleeping the last three months. That's bound to catch up sometime."

"Drowsiness and puffy eyes is what happens, not hallucinations and out of body experiences! Bruce, why is it so hard to believe that Spellbinder is behind this?"

"Because there's no proof," Bruce replies getting annoyed. "He shot you with an overdose of chlorpromazine, and that's it. I ran the test twice. Not to mention we just took two blood samples with nothing strange turning up. Stop looking for something that isn't there. Go home and get some rest."

Letting out an irritated sigh, Terry runs a hand through his hair as he turns away from the monitor. Bruce swivels his chair around to watch Terry walk over to the cases lined on the other side. "Terry, is there something you need to talk about?" Bruce carefully asks after a moment of silence.

"I'm not going crazy either," Terry bitterly replies.

The two men can feel the tension hanging between them. Bruce wants to help, but Terry isn't letting him. He thinks Terry needs to face the fact that his guilt and regret over Blight is catching up to him, and he needs to bring it to full light in order to get past it, otherwise his mind is going to keep torturing him. What Bruce doesn't understand though, is Terry's experiences are scaring him. Terry feels he's fighting a losing battle and the less answers he gets the more anxious he feels. If Bruce can't help him, then who will?

"I need to find him," Terry finally says turning around.

"Who?"

"Spellbinder."

"And then what? Question him? And what if he denies everything?"

"He won't. I know he has something to do with this, Bruce. Why else would he try to tranquilize me?"

"Probably to get away. He knows he can't fight you," Bruce replies getting up.

"Then why didn't he just flash me? That's his MO."

"He could have thought ahead considering what happened the last time he tried that. He's a smart man, Terry."

"Whose side are you on?" Terry asks frowning. "I'm suggesting we find him, you're saying it's not necessary."

"I'm on your side, but think rationally. You haven't been sleeping or eating well, and-," Bruce tries explaining before he falters.

Scowling, Terry bitterly asks, "and?"

"You recently found Jazz," Bruce continues with eyes glued on Terry.

Bristling at the accusation, Terry takes a few steps towards Bruce. "She has nothing to do with this."

"When did you start experiencing head-aches and sleep deprivation?"

"Since I met Spellbinder!"

"And since you found Jazz."

"You've got to be kidding me," Terry mutters tiredly running a hand over his face. "You're just saying that because you hate her."

Tired at constantly being attacked for no reason, Bruce begins walking towards the stairwell. "You wanted my help, I gave it to you. It's not my problem if you don't like it, but you need to clear your mind and start thinking with your head and not that unreliable gut of yours." Rather than listen to a reply, Bruce walks out the cave leaving Terry to fume over the conversation.

* * *

He barely managed to get through patrol before Bruce called him back about an hour ago. Disappointed at his own performance, Terry returns without argument and slips away to an alcove to change. Without facing Bruce, he quietly leaves the cave and heads towards the garage where he stored his motorcycle after he bought his car. It's been a while since he's taken it out, almost two years actually; so when he pulls off the tarp, a small nostalgic smile appears on his lips.

He loved riding that powerful machine; nothing else could bring him the sense of elation and freedom the way his bike did. It almost makes him glad he trashed his car. Putting the key in the ignition, he takes his seat and turns on the little monster that makes goose bumps cover his arms. After revving it a few times, he puts his helmet on and takes off as fast as he can down Wayne Manor's winding driveway before entering the freeway.

Early dawn is just breaking and the roads are mostly empty, so he doesn't hesitate to hit 120 mph. Hearing the roar of the engine he's sitting on and feeling the torque when he revs brings on a sense of adrenaline filled calmness. With his focus locked only on the road ahead, his worries disappear and all he's thinking about is turning on his blinker when he's ready to merge and pass the few cars around him.

_Click, click, click_, merge. _Click, click,_ another merge. He passes Max's exit, speeds by his accident site, and ignores his exit. _Click, click, click. _There goes Mom's exit. He speeds up to 140 mph. The open ends of his jacket flap harder in the wind and sting his sides when they hit him, but he ignores it. Gotham U's exit is coming up, after that is Jazz's, after that is… well, just Gotham, the city he protects every night. He begins slowing down after he passes his mother's exit.

Where is he going? He doesn't know. He's just driving, taking a spin on a motorcycle he hasn't ridden in a while. He slows down even more. There goes Gotham U. The adrenaline rush is wearing off and his focus switches from the gear shift and blinker to his own interest. He's tired, maybe a little hungry. He remembers the casserole in his fridge, then he remembers how Jazz brought it to him. She was nervous, even worried. Keeping one hand on the handle bar, Terry straightens and looks up to read the next exit number.

It's too early for her to be awake, but then again she was up yesterday. Shaking his head, he leans forward again and keeps driving. Why is he even thinking about her in the first place? She's a friend just like Max. He's never thought about Max nearly this much and she's the one he confides in all the time. Looking up, he reads the exit is coming up in two miles.

'_No, this is ridiculous,'_ he thinks to himself as he speeds up. One and a half miles left. What does he expect after he knocks on her door? She already said she has work, and he'll be seeing her for dinner anyway. One mile… He can't expect her to stop everything in her life because he wants to talk. Half a mile… Just forget about her. His hands grip the handle bars even tighter as he tries to stop counting down the distance. _'Just keep driving, keep driving…'_ Exit 53 on right.

A sigh escapes his lips. _Click, click, click,_ he merges onto the exit ramp.

* * *

Bruce was right; Terry isn't in his right mind. If he was, he wouldn't be turning right onto Jazz's street and slowing down as he approaches her building. Realizing how ludicrous his actions are, Terry shakes his head in disgust before he makes a sharp U-turn to return to the freeway entrance. However, just as he is about to speed off, he recognizes Jazz walking down the sidewalk heading to what he presumes is the subway stop a few blocks away. Coincidence can play nasty games with you sometimes.

Slowing down, he honks to get her attention. Looking over, she frowns at the motorist's covered face not recognizing who he is. Stopping the bike, Terry takes off his helmet.

"Need a ride?" He asks.

Smiling, Jazz approaches him as she lets out an impressed whistle. "Nice bike. Didn't know you had one," she starts, looking the powerful vehicle over.

"I kept it in storage no thanks to mom. She doesn't find it safe even though I've had it since high school."

"So why take it out now?"

He sheepishly puts a hand on the back of his neck. "Because I crashed the car," he explains before quickly adding, "but I'm fine, it wasn't a big deal."

"Considering you got away with only a band-aid on your face, I'll take your word for it. I just hope you're a better driver on this baby than you were in your car."

Giving her a light scowl, he changes the subject. "I'm guessing you're on your way to work."

"Yeah."

"So, you want to hop on?" Terry asks patting the back seat.

She looks down the street at the subway station hesitating for a moment before she nods. Terry hands her the helmet as she throws her leg over the bike and puts her feet on the available rests above the wheel. She slides the helmet over her head and tightens the buckle.

"Ready," she announces clamping onto the seat's sides.

"Hold on to me," Terry orders turning his head so she could hear.

"I've been on bikes before, you know," Jazz replies.

"Not on mine, so hold on." Reluctantly, she places her hands on his sides, but the action makes Terry shake his head. He grabs her wrists and pulls them forward to wrap her arms around his torso. Although she blushes at being pulled so close, she doesn't protest. "This is how you hold on," Terry says before he revs the bike and takes off.

When the forward momentum startles Jazz, she tightens her grip making Terry laugh. It's true she's been on bikes before, but she's always been the driver, never the passenger. With Terry in control, she feels more anxious than she wants to and her tight grip makes it obvious to him.

"Relax," He shouts over the wind and pats her hand.

It takes her a moment to adjust, and when Terry feels her relax, he speeds up. This time though Jazz smiles when she feels the engine roar to life. It's easy to appreciate this impressive piece of engineering, and its handler definitely knows how to use it. She wants him to go faster, to see what he can do, and, as if reading her mind, he does. They feel the bike pull before the gears upshift creating a slingshot effect.

Terry skillfully weaves through traffic without forgetting that blinker and makes the smoothest turns Jazz has ever experienced. Before she knows it though, the bike slows down to a stop in front of the grooming salon. Disappointed, Jazz reluctantly lets go of her driver.

"That makes me wish I never cut my hair," she says pulling off the helmet and ruffling her short hair.

"I would have let you keep the helmet off if wasn't dangerous," Terry replies turning the engine off.

"Really?" She sarcastically asks as she pats the back of his bare head making him laugh.

Jazz hands him the helmet before she takes a look at her watch. "Twenty minutes too early," she sighs before leaning sideways to look Terry in the face. "Want to get some coffee?" As a reply, Terry kicks the stand out and the two get off and walk over to a nearby coffee house. With the place relatively empty, they take a seat at a table in a corner with mugs in hand.

"Do you usually start work this early?" Terry asks after taking a sip.

"Pretty much. So, how'd you get into an accident?" She asks setting her mug down.

Terry nervously rubs the back of his neck. "I'd rather not talk about that."

"Don't tell me had too much to drink," she replies hoping he wasn't that irresponsible.

"No, of course not. I didn't even make it to Max's party."

"Then what happened?"

With a sigh, he lays his arm down on the table and stares back at Jazz's concerned face. She can see the anxiety clearly written all over his tired face, hear the fear in his voice, and she knows he's hiding something serious enough to affect him this way.

"Terry," she tries again gently placing a hand on his wrist. "What's going on?"

Terry stares at the hand on his arm amazed by the effect this simple touch has on him. The tension that tightened his neck and shoulders releases, and the calmness he felt while riding his bike returns. He lifts his eyes catching Jazz's gaze and finds himself wanting to spill everything. His nightmares, his experiences with Blight, even his Dana hallucination. But when he opens his mouth to start his story, an unfamiliar voice interrupts him.

"Morning Jazz," Becky, the blond groomer, greets moving towards their table.

Annoyed, Jazz pulls her hand away from Terry and rolls her eyes before she looks up at her coworker. "Morning."

When Becky recognizes Terry, she realizes her mistake and winks at Jazz. "Sorry, didn't realize you were busy. I just thought you should know the shop's open."

"Ok, thanks," Jazz replies straining a smile. "I'll be there soon."

With a smile, Becky leaves allowing the two to get back to the conversation. Unfortunately, the interruption brings Terry back to his guarded senses making him look away.

"You were going to say something?" Jazz tries coaxing.

"No," he replies bringing the subject to an end.

Disappointed, she picks up her mug and leans back in her chair as she takes a sip. "You know, McGinnis, sometimes you're too stubborn for your own good."

"I could say the same about you."

"I guess you could," Jazz replies looking out the window. Biting her lip in thought, she brings her gray eyes back to Terry's face. "How about a trade?"

Interested, Terry's brow goes up. "Trade what?"

"Secrets."

A slow smile creeps on his face. "Bit childish don't you think?"

"If it works for 5 year olds…"

Giving it a moment's thought, he nods. "Sounds fair enough."

"Look at that, we're finally agreeing on something," Jazz says making Terry smile. She takes a quick glance at her watch before she picks up her bag. "Time to get drenched," she says getting up.

The two walk back to the bike. "Still on for dinner tonight?" Terry asks as he puts his helmet back on.

"Seven o'clock," Jazz nods.

"See you then." He turns on his bike once Jazz disappears into the grooming salon and speeds off hoping to get home before the rush hour crowd clogs the highway.

-to be continued-feedback welcome-


	10. Broken Promise

_**A/N: FallenAngelx3- maaaaaaaaybe... am i making you wonder about what's going on? because if i am, then i'm doing my job right ;D**_

**_Lenorathetrekkie- well Bruce has no proof to tie Spellbindeer to this, and proof, afterall, is the detective's best friend. As for Spellbinder's plans... can't reveal anything yet, but this should start the ball rolling._**

**_So this is a long chapter, so brew some coffee if you want to read it at night. i wanted to incorporate some characters that seldom show up on the show, so i hope you don't mind a bit of dragging, but the good kind of dragging i hope. if you haven't noticed yet, i've been messing with Ter a lot so far and we're hitting a climax right now and in the upcoming chapters. hmmm, this is actually going to be much shorter than my last fic. *shrugs* oh well. enjoy! btw, feel free to tell me which chapters are your favorite so far (and if possible why). I like knowing what readers really respond to so i could improve on my writing. i'm digressing again... just read on..._**

"We were supposed to have a life together, Terry… how could you leave me?"

"Dana, I didn't," Terry's desperate voice replies as Dana starts backing away.

"You did; you left me every time that phone rang, every time someone else needed you, and every time I asked you to stay." With fists balled up in anger, she begins backing away from Terry.

"No; Dana, please, don't do this." He takes a step towards her, but he doesn't seem to be getting any closer. "Dana, I love you."

"That's the lie of the century," she cynically spits. "If you did, you would have taken care of me. But you didn't. I'm not sorry, Terry. I'll never be sorry." Turning, she starts walking into the darkness.

"No! Dana!" Terry finds himself yelling as he runs after her, but his legs suddenly weigh him down. The harder he runs, the more he struggles, and the farther away Dana gets. "Dana!" He calls out at the top of his lungs before his eyes shoot open making him realize it was just another nightmare.

Lying on his stomach, he lets out a very tired and irritated sigh. Looking at his clock, he realizes he's barely had an hour of sleep. "Son of a bitch; why now?" He groans as he covers his head with another pillow.

His body is aching from the strain he's been putting it through, and his brain is giving him a harsher punishment with a headache that has gotten worse since last night. After feeling the throbbing for a good fifteen minutes, he decides he's had enough and gets up to fetch some pain killers. He rummages through his giant first aid kit underneath the sink and pulls out a bottle of Tylenol with codeine, the good, strong prescription stuff. He hates taking it because of the way it makes him zone out, but that's exactly what he wants to do now.

"Just to get a few hours of sleep," he convinces himself with a sigh. He swallows two pills and shuffles back to his bed hoping this will work.

His eyes close but they don't catch any sleep yet. Rolling over on his side, he tries getting comfortable by punching his pillow a few times before laying still and listening to himself breathe.

"Terry," a voice suddenly whispers making Terry's eyes shoot open and look around. Thinking it could have been a dream, he closes his eyes and sighs. "Teeeerry," the voice taunts. "Terry, stay awake."

This time he's sure the voice isn't part of his dream and the realization makes him sit up and look around. "Hello?"

"Hello," the voice answers startling him. Terry shoots out of bed and rushes to the closet to check if anyone is in there. Finding it empty, he walks out into his living room but no one's there either. He checks the door's locks for any signs of tampering, but finds them intact. Starting to freak out, he takes a few steps away from the door before bumping into someone behind him. Startled, he spins to find Melanie smiling up at him.

"Stay awake Terry, stay awake," she chants with her clear blue eyes locked on his wide ones.

Covering both eyes with the heels of his hands, he rubs them for a second before running his hands through his hair. However, when he opens his eyes again, he discovers Melanie missing.

"Melanie?" He carefully calls out walking into the living room, but finds nobody there. Confused, he rubs the back of his neck as he walks back to his room.

"No, Terry," she suddenly speaks up. Spinning in place, Terry sees her sitting on the couch this time and still wearing an eerie smile. "Stay awake, Terry. You have to stay awake."

"What the hell is going on?" He desperately asks freezing in place.

"Stay awake," she repeats ignoring him. Getting up, she walks towards him. "It's all in your dreams, so stay awake." Standing in front of him, she rests a hand on his chest making him gasp.

The touch is what brings him back to life. When his eyes shoot open, he realizes he's still in bed. Still affected by his dream, he scrambles to his feet and puts a hand on his chest where Melanie had touched him. Gasping for breath, he runs out of his room to make sure nobody else is in his apartment. With everything remaining untouched, he scratches the back of his head as he looks over at a clock. He managed another hour of sleep, or what should have been sleep instead of a nightmare.

Suddenly feeling angry, he pounds a fist on the wall behind him before resting his back against it. He slides down to sit on the floor and covers his face with both hands feeling more frustrated than ever. The pain killer hasn't worked; everything is still screaming in pain and yearning for rest.

He needs help; he's desperate for it, and Jazz is his only option left.

* * *

A few sleepless hours pass before Terry's phone rings startling him. Hesitating, he picks it up to read his mother's number before he answers. "Yeah, mom?"

"It's Matt," the voice replies.

"What is it?"

"Oh, I'm fine, how are you?" Matt rhetorically asks irritated by the way Terry asked his question.

"Not now, Matt. I'm not having a good day."

"Look, I don't care about your day. I'm calling to see if you can pick me up."

"No," Terry curtly replies. He knows that unless his mother asks him to, Matt isn't allowed to ask for a ride. Since Matt turned into a teenager, Mary has been overprotective of him, which means Terry has to follow her rules regarding his brother.

"You haven't even heard me out," Matt complains.

"Are you mom? No, so I don't need to."

"Mooom," Matt calls out, "I told you he wouldn't believe me!" After a few minutes of shuffling, Mary's voice swaps in for Matt's.

"Terry, Matt needs a ride," she quickly explains. "Now I'm busy, so work it out with him."

Tiredly rubbing his eyes, Terry waits for his brother to come back on. "What is it, twip?"

"I need you to take me to Josh's house tonight. Mom won't let me use public transportation at night," Matt explains saying the last part loud enough for Mary to hear.

"What time?" Terry asks ignoring Matt's comment.

"Seven."

"Fine. You better be ready when I come over," Terry replies before he hangs up without saying any farewells. He shuffles to the kitchen and opens the fridge door to take out the foil wrapped casserole. That's when he realizes his mistake: he's meeting Jazz at seven. He quickly picks up his phone again and calls his mother back.

"Yes, Terry?" She replies sounding a little annoyed.

"I forgot; I'm busy at seven. I can't pick Matt up."

"Is there any way you can do it earlier? I have company coming and the last thing I need is Matt pulling pranks."

"Six-thirty then?"

"Hang on," Mary replies pulling the phone away from her ear. Terry can hear his brother and mother talk from a distance before she comes on. "No, he's finishing an online project with friends and won't be done till seven."

"You're killing me, mom," Terry complains rubbing his head.

"Can't you delay your plans? What do you have that's so important anyway? Is it Mr. Wayne?"

"No," Terry sighs. _Jazz would understand if I'm late, right?_ "Fine, I'll be there at seven."

"Thank you, Terry. Do you need anything else?"

"No, bye mom."

* * *

Another reason Terry is glad he took his bike out is not having to sit in traffic. Easily weaving in between the gridlocked cars, he manages to make it to his mother's apartment in under fifteen minutes. Parking the bike on the street, he quickly heads into the building and up to the apartment. He rings the bell and leans on the doorframe as he waits for someone to answer. A moment later, the door swings open with Matt standing on the other side.

"Good, come on," Terry says straightening up.

"Bye mom!" Matt calls out and follows his brother to the elevator.

"What time am I supposed to pick you up?"

"Eleven," Matt replies before his brother frowns at him. "Ten-thirty," he corrects rolling his eyes. "You know, Josh's brother lets him get away with a lot of things."

"Well, today's your lucky day," Terry starts as they ride the elevator down. Matt frowns at his brother not understanding what he means. "If you breathe a word to mom about what I'm going to show you, I'll tell her about your after school arcade trips. Got it?"

Sensing a pretty juicy secret is coming up, Matt's grin widens to an impossible size before he asks, "how'd you know about the arcade?"

"Who do you think you're talking to?" Terry replies with a raised brow.

"This better be worth it," Matt agrees as the elevator doors slide open. He follows his older brother outside to discover the best secret he has to keep. His eyes go wide when he spots the blue motorcycle parked across the street. "No way!" Matt exclaims laughing. "Didn't mom tell you to-"

"Yeah, yeah; it's why this has to be a secret, genius. Now put this on," he says handing the helmet to his brother. "I'm only doing this because I'm already late, so don't expect a repeat."

"You say that now," Matt says as he climbs onto the bike.

"I'm serious. Hold on tight."

Kicking the stand up, he turns on the bike and slowly eases into traffic. Although he's going a lot slower than he usually does, he still manages to drive in between cars making good time. As they wait at a light, Matt taps Terry's side.

"What?" Terry asks turning his head.

"Your phone's ringing," he replies. Terry forgot to disconnect the Bluetooth device embedded in his helmet before he let Matt have it.

"Don't answer it," Terry replies looking back up at the light.

Ignoring him, Matt presses the answer button. "Hello?"

Taken aback, Jazz stares at her phone for a second before putting it back up to her ear. "Uh, hi. Who is this?"

"You're the one who called, lady. You should know."

"What the-," she says scowling. "I know who I'm calling; who the hell picked up?"

"Matt, get off the phone," she hears Terry's faint voice order.

"Hey, was that Terry?" Jazz asks.

"The girl is asking for you," Matt says to his brother. There's a moment of silence before Matt speaks again. "Are you Jazz?"

"Yeah."

"Terry's gonna be a few minutes late. Is there a message you want me to pass on?"

"No, but you need to work on your manners."

"It's not like I know you."

"You're lucky you don't," Jazz replies letting her temper get the better of her.

"Whatever," Matt says hanging up. "So who's Jazz?" he asks Terry as the light turns green.

"A friend."

"I like her," he replies with a grin. "Can I meet her sometime?"

Rolling his eyes, Terry ignores his brother and starts driving the last few blocks. That's when a sudden sense of dizziness hits him. Afraid for Matt's safety, Terry quickly slows down and pulls over.

"Hey, why'd you stop?" Matt asks, but Terry doesn't reply as he puts a hand to his head. "Ter?"

"Just give me a second," Terry snaps rubbing his temples. _'Not now, please, not here,'_ he pleads as he squeezes his eyes shut. Breathing deeply, he opens his eyes to see if his senses are back. Looking around, he's relieved to discover that the dizzy spell has passed.

"What's wrong?" Matt asks sounding a little worried.

"Nothing, just a head ache," Terry replies as he revs the bike and takes off again. The short trip ends when he parks in front of Josh's building a few minutes later. "Be ready by 10:30."

"Whatever," Matt replies taking the helmet off.

Scowling at the fourteen year old, Terry watches him jump off the bike and walk into the building. Glad his obligation is done, he slips his helmet on and gives Jazz a call as he speeds in the direction of her apartment.

"Hello?" She cautiously answers hoping that rude boy isn't the one calling.

"Hey, sorry about that."

"And who was 'that'?" Jazz asks relieved to be talking to Terry.

"My brother."

"So that's the elusive sibling. Somehow I'm not surprised."

"He's going through a phase. So why'd you call?"

"I was wondering where you were."

"I was dropping the little twip off at his friend's place," Terry replies. "Sorry I'm late."

"I don't mind; I managed to get some quality time with Zee, so all is well. How long are you going to be?"

Before Terry could reply, a second wave of dizziness hits him and this time it's worse than the first. His bike comes to a skidding halt resulting in car horns blaring and a few curses thrown his way, but he ignores the protests and rips his helmet off to grab his head.

"Terry?" Jazz asks when she hears the commotion. "Hello?"

Terry doesn't move as he waits for the world to stop spinning, but after a few minutes pass with no relief, he starts getting worried. He pulls out his phone from his pocket and switches speakers before holding it up to his ear. "Jazz?"

"Terry, what's going on?" Jazz asks sounding worried.

"Nothing," he lies closing his eyes. "Listen, I don't know how long I'm going to be, but I'll make it. I promise."

"Okay," she carefully replies. "You sure you're fine?"

"Yeah. I'll see you when I see you."

After he hangs up, he slowly lifts his head and puts his helmet back on. He knows he can't sit in the middle of the road to wait for his head to clear. Looking around, he figures Max's apartment is closest; so making a decision, Terry eases back into traffic and as carefully and slowly as he can, manages to make it to her apartment just as his headache gets worse.

He stumbles off his bike, and, with a hand supported on either a railing or a wall, he makes it to Max's door. Leaning on the frame, he vigorously rings the bell before it swings open with Max standing on the other side scowling at him. However, before she can reprimand him, she realizes the trouble he's in.

"Terry? What's wrong?" She asks standing aside.

"I—I'm not sure," he stutters walking in and dropping his helmet by the door. Seeing the trouble he's having just to stay upright, Max takes his arm and wraps it around her shoulders offering support as he moves towards the couch. "Can you drive me to Wayne's?"

"Don't you mean a hospital?" She asks watching him flop down on the couch and hold his head in his hands.

"No." If Spellbinder is behind this, a hospital would be the last place he wants to go. He'd rather have Bruce make that call after he examines him.

Although she hesitates, she eventually nods. "You think you can make it to the car?"

"Yeah," he says, but when he tries to stand, he all of a sudden collapses in an unconscious heap on the couch.

Alarmed, Max hurries to his side and gently shakes him. When he doesn't wake up though, she rushes to find a neighbor who will help her move Terry to her car.

-to be continued-feedback welcome-


	11. Desperate Times

_**A/N: first off, i'd like to thank everyone who has been submitting reviews! you guys are awesome! second, i'd like to thank those who are actually keeping up with this fic! you guys are awesome too! no, this isn't the last chapter, but i thought a little thank you would be nice, wouldn't you agree? anyway, this should get the ball rolling. to those of you who figured out what will happen next, good for you. for those who didnt, aren't surprises great? anyway, let's get some suspense started, shall we? enjoy!**_

Terry has been on the gurney for a half hour now and he hasn't shown signs of waking up. If Bruce is panicking, he hasn't made it obvious yet. He checks Terry's pupils, and just like the last two times, his eyes react normally to the light meaning his brain is responsive. Blood work is clean, breathing is normal, blood pressure normal, pulse normal, _everything is normal._ Frustrated, Bruce moves away from Terry's side and walks towards the console. He can't figure out why a healthy twenty-three year old would all of a sudden collapse and stay out for so long.

Maybe Terry is right; maybe something else is going on. Bruce shakes his head in disbelief. Only yesterday he was telling Terry that this was all in his head, a physiological manifestation of a psychological issue; a problem common enough not to raise alarms. However, now, with Terry laying motionless a few feet away, he's afraid to realize he was wrong.

"Mr. Wayne?" Max cautiously gets his attention as she moves away from the bed.

Bruce looks at her from the corner of his eye. "Go home. There's nothing else you can do here."

"I still think we should take him to the ER," she says ignoring his orders.

"His life isn't in danger."

"You can't be sure about that," Max replies. "You don't even know what's going on in his head. He could have a lesion, or God forbid a brain hemorrhage."

Bruce turns to look at her processing what she just said; he can almost hear the mental gear click into place. _What's going on in his head_. Without responding to Max, he moves away from the computer to fetch a brain wave scanner hidden away with his other medical equipment. Maybe this will help provide some answers and hopefully a solution.

* * *

Sirens and flashing lights are what he wakes up to. His heart is banging in his chest and his head feels light as though he's about to pass out again, but that's when training kicks in. He can't afford to be afraid; he has to be ready for anything. He steadies his breathing, and sits up to look around. He's in a building, a museum by the looks of it. He jumps to his feet and realizes he's dressed in black, no, in his suit, and a bag is slung over his shoulder. Frowning with confusion, he opens it to find the DNA case he saved from the Kobras a few days ago.

'_This can't be real,'_ he thinks to himself rubbing his head. However, when Jokerz all of a sudden burst into the room and swarm him, Batman realizes now is not the time to figure out what's happening. Dodging a bullet, he punches the closest Joker and throws him in the shooter's way as he makes his escape.

Kicking another Joker out of the way, he runs towards a window as he tries contacting the cave. "Hello? Can you hear me?" When nothing replies a moment later, he curses under his breath and decides to crash out the window. Before he could leap through it though, metal bars suddenly slide down blocking his escape and bringing him to a skidding halt. Looking back, he can see the Jokerz catching up to him. He flicks his wrist commanding a batarang, but nothing comes out.

"Slaggit, not this again!" Knowing he needs a quick escape, he takes cover behind a vase display hoping to figure out what to do next.

* * *

The alarm goes off in the cave making Bruce look up from Terry's head. Gotham's art museum is in the middle of a crisis, but there's nothing he can do about it. Ignoring the warning, Bruce continues attaching sensors around Terry's head before he turns on the EEG.

"What are you looking for?" Max asks standing at the foot of the bed, but Bruce doesn't respond as he reads the graphs printing out the side of the machine. When a frown creases his brow, Max can't help but nervously wring her hands. "What?"

"His brain wave activity," he replies without looking at her. "It resembles that of a fully conscious person," he explains when the corner of his eye catches the video feed of the commotion happening in the museum.

He moves past Max heading towards the console with eyes narrowing in thought as Spellbinder leaps behind a vase display to hide. His gears begin spinning faster as his grip tightens around his cane.

"You think he has something to do with this?" Max asks following his line of vision. He gives her a single nod. "Okay," she hesitantly says shoving her hands in her pockets. "So, now what?"

"Now, you leave," Bruce orders, turning around.

"I'm not leaving."

"Then what exactly do you plan to do?" He asks hoping the question will force her to realize she's useless at this point.

"Help you figure out what's going on," she stubbornly replies making Bruce wonder if his intention ever crossed her mind.

"Do you have a theory?"

Looking back at Terry and the EEG machine, she bites her lip in thought before she returns her gaze to Bruce. "Spellbinder likes messing with minds, right? Maybe he figured out some telepathic way to do this to him."

"No; he's not a telepath, and even if he had access to someone who is, he doesn't have anything to offer that would make them work for him."

"Well messed up brain waves doesn't make much sense either."

Bruce falls silent as he watches Spellbinder sneak up on a guard, put him in a choke hold, and drag him back into his hiding place. "He's our answer," he finally says nodding at the screen.

"And how are we going to get him?"

Bruce's finger hesitates over the phone button on the console before he presses it dialing the last person he thought he would need.

* * *

With her chin resting on crossed arms laid out on the table, Jazz stares at the phone sitting in front of her hoping for it to come to life. She's been waiting for it to ring for the last forty-five minutes, but her intense glare hasn't helped. Sighing, she straightens up and contemplates whether or not to settle her growling stomach with a turkey sandwich. Before a decision can be made though, the phone suddenly buzzes excitedly wanting to be picked up. However, when Jazz reads the incoming number, her eyes widen with disbelief before a finger presses the green button.

"Terry?"

The reply doesn't follow immediately. "No."

She stiffens at Bruce's cold reply. "What is it?" She asks all of sudden afraid of what he has to say.

"Come over."

"Why? What happened?"

"Just come over," Bruce repeats before hanging up.

Without wasting time, she grabs her bag and runs out.

* * *

After paying the cab driver, Jazz rings the intercom button by the gates and waits for the doors to slowly creak open. It takes a moment before they do, but she doesn't wait for them to open all the way. Managing to squeeze through, she sprints up the driveway reaching the front door in seconds. Knowing she's expected, she bursts through the doors and towards the familiar grandfather clock. As she starts her descent down the stairs, fear grips her senses when she spots Terry lying on the gurney and hooked to an EEG machine.

"What happened?" Jazz pants getting the attention of the other occupants in the cave.

"We're not exactly sure," Max replies when Bruce returns his eyes to the video feed. Although she's wondering why Max is in the cave, Jazz pushes the thought aside as she approaches her unconscious partner. "We do know Spellbinder is connected to this, though."

Jazz reads the graphs sitting at the end of the bed and frowns. "I take it you don't know why his brain waves are messed up either."

"No, but you're going to help me find out," Bruce finally addresses her as he swivels the chair around.

Surprised, Jazz takes a step away from the bed. "What?"

Max switches her gaze between Bruce's steely eyes and Jazz's worried ones. "You're the only one who can help stop him," she tries persuading Jazz.

"No, I'm not. Quitting means I don't have to do this anymore," Jazz says locking eyes with Bruce. She takes a few steps towards him. "The commissioner can arrest him, and if you give her a call, she can interrogate him for you."

"I wouldn't have called you if it were that easy." Bruce nods towards the screen behind him. "Spellbinder has been dodging guards and police for the past half hour and is on the verge of escape."

Jazz looks up at the screen and takes a step back. '_This can't be happening,'_ she thinks to herself as she starts panicking. The reason she quit was so she wouldn't have to battle with self restraint every time she had to face a rapist or murderer, but now Bruce is forcing her to step back into that war so he could help his protégé. She doesn't know if it's worth the anxiety that comes with every punch she throws hoping it's not the killing blow, another month of sleepless nights, or the regret she would feel if she fails.

"No, I can't do it," Jazz desperately shakes her head as she backs away.

"Jazz," Max tries again, "it would just be for tonight."

"You don't get it," she replies narrowing her eyes into a glare that switches between Bruce and Max. "I can't; I'm not going to."

As she turns to run out, a glimpse of Terry from the corner of her eye stops her from taking the first step. He needs her help, he always has. She can no longer ignore the fact that the last three months have taken a toll on him. Although her head is screaming for an escape, her legs go the opposite direction walking towards Terry. Looking down at him, she notices a fresh scar running up his arm, one she can't help but feel responsible for. It could have been avoided; the pain from receiving it, the hassle of treating it, and now having to live with this disfigurement brings a surge of guilt that's heavier than she can bear. She owes him more than she can repay, but she has to start somewhere.

A sigh escapes her lips before she turns to Bruce. "Where's my suit?"

-to be continued-feedback welcome-


	12. Facing Challenges

**_A/N: aawww shucks, you got me blushin, nichammock. thanks for the kind review and being a fan :D. FallenAngelx3: for now... muahaha :D. Lenorathetrekkie: i always find a story to be more interesting when all characters are incorporated. thanks for the kind review! On with the show!_**

Batman hides the Joker he knocked out earlier behind the display case and pulls off his shoe for later use. He carefully peers out to study the room before making his move. Above the group of Jokerz is his only escape: the air vent that leads to the roof. The good thing is the Jokerz seem to be a little dazed as they search for Batman, the bad thing is there is a whole lot of them, too many for Batman to take on his own. So pulling the shoe off of his victim, he inconspicuously throws it to the other side of the room grabbing the Jokerz attentions.

Taking advantage of their diverted eyes, Batman sprints to the vent and, using a Joker's back as leverage, leaps into the air bursting through the duct. Before the Jokerz realize what just happened, Batman quickly finds his way through the duct system making it to the roof in minutes. Kicking the grill cover out, he emerges onto the roof and takes a look around wondering how he even got to the art museum in the first place. He walks to one edge of the roof top and peaks over to find Jokerz and T's surrounding the area making him frown with confusion.

'_Since when did they start working together?'_ Before anyone can spot him, he quietly leaps to the adjacent rooftop's building before suddenly being tackled to the ground. Kicking off his assailant, he leaps to his feet and assumes a fighter's stance as he waits for his attacker to rise.

"I'm not that easy to get rid of," Blight says as he turns around. He holds up a hand forming a radiation ball and throws it in Batman's direction.

**_

* * *

_**

Batgirl takes out a batarang hurling it in Spellbinder's way but he dodges it with ease. "Something's off," Batgirl says into her comlink as she fires a bola trying to snag Spellbinder, but like the first time, he jumps out of the way.

Watching the battle through the vidlink, Bruce frowns when he watches Spellbinder move with ease and grace. "Try hitting him," Bruce suggests. "It shouldn't be hard."

Taking the advice, Batgirl rushes towards him and throws her fist forward; but Spellbinder catches it with one hand and, with the other, punches her once in the gut then again in the face knocking her back. Surprised, Batgirl grabs her lip to discover it's been split open. Spitting out the blood, she straightens up and glares at her offender.

"Shouldn't be hard, huh?" She mocks. "Geeky, gangly Ira Billings wasn't supposed to be able to do that."

"Try again," Bruce replies putting a finger on his chin in thought; so she does.

* * *

Batman managed to make contact with the health hazard, but he wants to do that as little as possible. So when he sees Blight charge at him again, he side steps and watches Blight pass him by. However, Blight quickly adapts to the move and tries kicking Batman as he spins to face him. Batman blocks the foot and flips back before the same leg can hit his ribs.

He ducks under a fire ball speeding at his head before Blight closes the distance between them. He blocks the two punches aimed for his head and gut, and when he finds an opening, he elbows Blight in the face following it with a one-two punch. Flipping back to a hand stand, he uses both legs to deliver a powerful kick into Blight's chest sending him flying back.

* * *

The blow to her chest leaves her lying on the ground winded. "This isn't working," she pants as she slowly gets up.

"Try harder," Bruce replies ignoring her protest.

"No; obviously Spellbinder is either high on slappers or it's not him at all."

"Try harder, Douglas," Bruce repeats getting irritated. He's not about to watch Spellbinder walk because Jazz keeps holding back. He's seen her fight better than this, and if she doesn't start stepping up her performance, Terry might end up in real trouble.

Letting out a sigh, Batgirl prepares for another attack. When she rushes at him, she catches him off guard by dropping to slide feet first into Spellbinder's legs tripping him. Batgirl skids to a stop, flips over and manages to leap onto Spellbinder's back pinning him down. She grabs his wrist pulling it behind his back, but before she can secure the other one, Spellbinder uses it to flip himself over pushing Batgirl off.

She lands next to a stray five foot long metal pipe giving her the advantage of a weapon. Picking it up as she stands, she hurls it like a spear at Spellbinder, but is unpleasantly surprised when he skillfully catches it in mid-air. She curses under her breath before she tries again. Batgirl closes the distance between them and, when he swings the pipe at her, she goes down on one knee ducking under it. Leaving his left side open, she finally manages to deliver a punch to his side before bending back to dodge a second swing. When she straightens up, she elbows him in the stomach and delivers an uppercut punch as she stands quickly followed by a back hand to his temple.

* * *

The last hit he received to his head causes everything to go blurry for a second. Batman takes a step back putting a hand to his head as he looks up at Blight, except it isn't Blight. Instead, he finds himself staring at a dark image with a fuzzy red mark in the middle whereas the surrounding background has cleared. Blinking a few times though, seems to bring Blight's image back as well as his guard.

* * *

"Mr. Wayne!" Max exclaims when Terry's body suddenly twitches. Turning, he looks at her wondering what set her off. "Terry just moved!"

He turns back to the monitor. "Do that again," Bruce orders Jazz.

"Do what?"

"Hit him in the temple."

"Why?"

"Just do it."

Clenching her fists, she takes in a few deep breaths and charges again. Before she makes contact though, she catches Spellbinder off guard by throwing a flash-bomb onto his chest that goes off on impact. Taking advantage of the confusion, she leaps into the air and kicks his temple with her heel making him back away a few steps.

"He twitched again!" Max calls out.

"Twitched? What are you talking about?" Batgirl asks stepping forward to deliver a punch before Spellbinder can recollect his senses.

Switching his gaze between the monitor and Terry, Bruce figures out what's happening. The tranquilizer, Spellbinder's sudden and familiar fighting skills, and Terry's inexplicable collapses, they make sense now.

"That's Terry," Bruce explains looking at Spellbinder's image, but the comment stops Batgirl's fist in mid-air leaving her open.

"What?" She asks surprised before a fist connects with her jaw knocking her back. "What the hell are you talking about?" She asks again rubbing the side her face.

"Terry is controlling Spellbinder. Aim for his mask; it seems to be what's keeping Terry unconscious."

"No, hang on, let me get this straight," she replies getting to her feet. "I'm fighting Batman?"

"Technically."

"Then we have a problem."

"Why?"

"I can't fight Batman."

"You know his moves."

"Yeah, and I can't even keep him down during practice. What chance do I have when he thinks I'm the bad guy?"

"The only one," Bruce replies. "I know what's happening, but I can't do anything until Terry wakes up. If Spellbinder gets away, Terry's mind leaves with him."

Finding herself stuck in a very unfavorable position, Jazz tries not to panic. Terry is a superior opponent, and she would have to use a lot of skill and force to win. How much force is her main worry, though; use too much and she can end up killing him, too little and Spellbinder will get away. This isn't her ideal challenge. Drawing a deep, controlled breath to calm her nerves, she takes her stance and prepares for another attack.

-to be continued-feedback welcome-


	13. Wake Up Call

**_A/N: So here's one for you action fans, tons of that in here. it may seem like its coming to an end, but it really isnt. anyway, enjoy!_**

Batman knows something is very wrong. There's no way Powers can fight like he's been trained. He's more of a throw-radiation-around-and-see-what-happens kind of guy, so this sudden skill and calculation only proves he's not fighting Blight at all; but that raises the question of who he's fighting. Since his attacker has yet to make a move, Batman takes the opportunity to figure out who he might be. He remembers the bag he dropped after being tackled; the DNA research was in it, so is he fighting a Kobra in disguise?

Before he has a chance to connect the dots, pseudo-Blight suddenly returns to action. Still wielding the metal rod, Batman uses it to block the kicks and punches thrown his way. When he gets the chance, he fights back using the ends of the poles as his contact points hitting the gut, face, and finally sweeping the feet from under Blight.

* * *

Hitting the floor again, Batgirl rolls away before Spellbinder can pin her down with the pipe and jumps up to her feet.

"This isn't working," she pants into her comlink.

"Concentrate. Get that weapon out of his hands," Bruce coaches.

Groaning, she decides maybe a sneak attack would work. Dropping three fog pellets by his feet, she turns on her camo option as she sneaks up behind him. The problem with fighting Batman is that his senses are just as trained as his muscles; so, although he's blinded by the smoke, he could hear Batgirl approaching him. Before she has a chance to put him in a headlock, he stabs the pipe backwards hitting Batgirl in the gut. Her camo short circuits from the impact making her visible and leaving her winded. She flips back to get distance between her and Spellbinder.

"Any other ideas?" She asks rubbing her stomach.

"Try talking to him," this time the idea comes from Max. "Maybe you could get through to Terry in some way."

Batgirl lets out a sigh and puts her hands up in surrender. "Batman, can you hear me?"

Spellbinder lets out a very eerie giggle. "Little slower than your partner, aren't you?"

Ignoring him, Batgirl tries again. "You can fight this, Batman."

Shaking his head, Spellbinder straightens up. "I'll explain it to you _slowly_," he patronizes "I have full control over him. Whatever you say, he won't hear. He sees what I make him see, he hears what I make him hear, get the picture? So how about you just give up and let me have my fun?"

Batgirl balls her fists up again. "A lot of good that did," she mutters. She's running out of ideas.

* * *

Batman watches fake-Blight hold up his hands in surrender, but he doesn't trust the gesture. He keeps his distance and his weapon ready in front of him. A few seconds later, Blight smiles and his fists start glowing giving reason for Batman's distrust. However, before Batman can attack, a very familiar voice suddenly grabs his attention.

"It's not what it seems, Terry," she whispers.

"What?" He asks straightening a little.

"It's not what it seems," she repeats but this time sounding more distant.

He knows that voice from somewhere, but he doesn't have time to figure it out when Blight takes a familiar fighter's stance.

* * *

There's only one option left, one she has never used in real combat before. She tries to remember everything Bruce taught her about this move as she takes the stance. Putting her weight on the back leg, she straightens out her other one in front with the toes pointed and just barely touching the floor. She holds up her arms in front of her keeping the elbows slightly bent and one hand closer to her face. She keeps her fingers loose but ready to act.

When Bruce sees her hands through the vidlink, a brow rises in interest. He hacks into the security cameras on that rooftop to get a better look, and when the link is successful, the corner of his mouth twitches when he realizes her intent. She's getting ready to disarm Spellbinder using a technique he taught her.

* * *

After seeing the stance being taken, Batman knows nothing good will come of this. However, before he can put up the pipe to defend himself from whatever will happen, the voice he heard earlier distracts him.

"Teeerry," she taunts sounding a bit closer. "Nothing is what it seems."

"Who are you?" Batman asks looking around.

Taking his eyes off his opponent is his first big mistake; it gives Blight a chance to suddenly take one giant leap forward with surprising speed and grab the pipe with one extended hand. The other hand shoots forward lodging two fingers on a pressure point underneath Batman's chin tilting his head back. This forces Batman to let go of his weapon and step back.

* * *

Batgirl managed to successfully disarm Spellbinder with two fingers and little physical effort. With the pipe back it her hand, she kicks out a leg forcing him to his knee. She twirls the rod around to catch it with both hands and aims to hit his temple, but the blow is blocked by an arm. Using the other end of the rod, she blocks an attempted blow to her stomach and aims at his head again this time making contact. Spellbinder falls to his side, but he doesn't give up.

He sweeps his leg out catching Batgirl's knee, but thanks to her firm stance, she doesn't fall over. Rolling back, Spellbinder makes it back to his feet but keeps his distance.

* * *

The second blow to his head affected him much the same way the first one did. Blight's image is replaced by the fuzzy black and red image, but this time it's paired with that mysterious voice.

"Terry, don't believe what you see," she says, this time sounding a lot closer.

Batman shakes his head, but the image remains fuzzy creating a problem. Since he can't see his opponent's next move, he won't be able to defend himself properly. He's in trouble now.

* * *

Spellbinder hasn't made his move yet, leaving Batgirl to wonder what's happening. "He's not doing anything," she says into the comlink.

"Then finish this."

Batgirl decides on a final maneuver, and rushes at Spellbinder hopefully for the last time.

* * *

The fuzzy image suddenly closes the distance, and Batman barely manages to block the metal rod from hitting his skull again.

"Not what it seems," that voice repeats sounding more and more familiar.

He receives a kick to the ribs, but he doesn't go down. He keeps his arms up protecting his head. Another kick hits the knee making it buckle, but he quickly regains his footing. The pipe hits his other side making him grunt, but he holds firm. When he blocks another blow to his head, he manages to grab and hang on to the attacker's weapon.

Pulling him forward, Batman elbows him in the face before punching him once in the side and twice in the face. The attack forces his opponent to let go of the weapon and step back. Taking the opportunity, Batman rushes at him with pipe held out in front of him. However, before contact can be made, the attacker grabs onto the pipe and drops into a backward somersault. As he rolls back, he uses both legs to kick Batman in the gut and send him flying to the ground behind him.

Batman gracelessly lands hard on his head and shoulder. Grunting, he slowly gets up with his back facing his attacker, and puts a hand to his head.

"Focus, Terry!" The voice suddenly yells. Startled, Batman lifts his eyes finally recognizing her.

"Tamara," he replies looking around. "Where are you?"

"Keep focusing, Terry," she says ignoring his question. "Nothing is what it seems."

If Tamara is speaking into his head, then it could explain why he doesn't feel like himself. The suit's missing weaponry, ending up in different settings with no recollection of getting there, and the fuzzy image before him are symptoms of a bigger problem.

"Look around you, Terry; what do you see?"

Batman straightens up and turns around to find the fuzzy person standing motionless. "Who is that?"

"What do you see, Terry?" She asks again.

Narrowing his eyes, he puts the pieces together. Fighting skills, calculated blows, red and black. As he lists the clues, the image starts clearing up.

"Focus, Terry," Tamara encourages suddenly appearing behind the fuzzy attacker. "What do you see?"

"You," Batman replies.

"Good, keep focusing."

Concentrating, the image starts taking shape and a few moments later he realizes he's staring straight at his partner. "Batgirl."

"Good. Now, who are you?" Tamara asks making him frown.

He looks down at his arms and realizes he's wearing a costume covered in black and orange swirls. "Spellbinder!" He gasps stepping back.

* * *

When Spellbinder takes an unexpected step back, Batgirl prepares herself in case there's going to be a chase. She digs her feet into the ground waiting for him to spring before Bruce interrupts her.

"There's a change in the brain waves," he suddenly reports.

"What does that mean?" She asks still suspicious of the person before her.

"Terry might be waking up, or at least coming to his senses."

"He doesn't look any different to me."

However, as soon as she says that, Spellbinder's posture takes on a change. He realizes something is wrong with his motor-skills, as though something has shifted control. He doesn't have a telekinetic connection with Batman, but he has a feeling Batman has caught on to his plan. However, Spellbinder doesn't want that realization to become obvious to Batgirl; that would be like admitting defeat.

* * *

After realizing he's in Spellbinder's body, it doesn't take much for Terry to figure out that Spellbinder is his puppet. He looks at Tamara wondering if she has any instructions.

"I can help you detach," Tamara says, but Terry shakes his head at her. "What's wrong?"

"I can control Spellbinder, so I can stop him." Tamara's reply is a single nod before she slowly dissipates.

With that, Terry puts it to the test. He kneels on the floor and puts his hands up gesturing surrender. When Batgirl gives him a confused reaction, Terry puts his wrists together knowing Spellbinder is mimicking his moves. Hesitating, she takes a careful step forward as she pulls out her flexi-cuffs. However, just when she bends down to bind his wrists, Terry suddenly loses control of Spellbinder, and watches his hand go up and flash Batgirl in the face.

Horrified, Terry hears Batgirl scream as she grabs her head and falls over writhing in pain. His horror quickly turns to protective rage, and Terry closes his eyes to concentrate and regain control of Spellbinder's muscles. He doesn't know how he does it, but he soon finds himself the puppeteer again.

Ira thought he could command Batman at will, use him to get out of trouble, but he never thought his own technology could turn on him. He realizes his mistake a little too late, though. When he takes a step to run, his leg suddenly freezes causing panic to ripple down his spine. Spellbinder can't help but watch himself walk towards the fallen flexi-cuffs, pick them up, and fasten them onto his own wrists.

"No!" He cries out in fear as he tries to regain control.

He realizes he has failed miserably when his legs begin moving towards Batgirl, who is still twisting in pain on the floor. Spellbinder watches his own hand reach for the belt buckle and his finger press a button that sends currents of electricity coursing through his body. The shock doesn't just bring excruciating pain, but it fries the wires embedded in Spellbinder's mask before knocking him out.

* * *

Gasping, Terry suddenly shoots up in the gurney and takes a quick look around to discover he's in the damp confines of the cave.

"Terry!" Max cries out rushing to his side.

When he looks up at her, he notices all the wires coming out of his head. He rips them off and jumps onto unsteady legs before stumbling over to the console. Looking at the video feed, he finds Batgirl has stopped rolling around on the floor and, with hand on her head, slowly sits up.

Looking over to her right, she's startled to find Spellbinder unconscious and laying beside her. She pokes his side with a foot to make sure he's out cold.

"I knocked him out," Terry explains relieved to find her awake.

Surprised by Terry's voice, Batgirl straightens up. "Hey, you're awake!"

"Are you okay?"

"Just fine," she groans rubbing her bruised ribs. "Is it over?"

"Yeah, you can start heading back," Terry says ending the link.

"How are you feeling?" Bruce asks looking up at his protégé.

"Sleep deprived," Terry replies rubbing his neck before Max throws her arms around him. Although surprised at first, Terry returns the hug. "I'm fine, Max," he reassures as he waits for her to let go.

"I never can tell when that's a lie," she replies stepping back.

"It's not this time. Any idea how Spellbinder did that?" Terry directs his question at Bruce.

"Nano-tech," Max replies before Bruce has a chance. "I've seen it before; nano-tech that can transmit and receive signals. He adapted it so it could work on biological subjects. I'm guessing the way it works is they replicate neuronal firings in certain parts of the brain and transmit any responses to the person with a receiver. It's pretty fascinating technology that's still being developed for people who suffer from MS or spinal injuries. I would explain how they work, but you don't look like you'd appreciate a lecture right now."

"Why didn't they show up in the blood tests?"

"Because they latch on to whatever organ they're assigned to," Max explains. "Once Ira gave the signal, they lodged themselves into your brain, so tracing them would be impossible without a CAT scan. Judging by how he used them, I bet you have some in your cerebellum as well as parts of your cerebral cortex like parietal lobes and frontal…" her voice trails off when she receives a bored look from Terry. "Sorry."

"So, why didn't we think of nano-tech before?" Terry asks.

"Because we had nothing to go on," this time Bruce responds as he gets up and walks over to a lab station. "Choosing between nano-tech or sleep deprivation as an explanation, sleep deprivation sounded more plausible." He rummages through some drawers and cabinets before he pulls out a vial and syringe gun. Filling it with the necessary dose, he walks back to the console. "This should dissolve the nano-tech in your brain. You'll need a dialysis machine to filter out the remains." Without warning, he sticks the needle in Terry's arm ignoring the short cry of pain.

"Great; can I sleep through it?" Terry asks with a yawn.

Bruce nods once as he leads the way to the machine. "I have to hand it to Ira," Max starts as they follow Bruce. "That was a pretty clever plan."

"Excuse me?" Terry asks glaring down at Max.

"Well, not the part of taking over your body to steal stuff," Max replies. "I mean, he put a lot of thought into his plan. Putting you through so much mental crap so that you end up his puppet, that was pretty ingenious, before it back fired of course."

"I don't care how you interpret it Max, but if you praise Ira for any of this, I swear I'll make sure you never have a good night's sleep for a month."

The threat makes her cringe, especially since she knows full well that he can keep to it. "Never mind then, I'll see you later!" She calls out as she rushes out the cave before any other stupid comments fall out of her mouth.

-to be conitnued-feedback welcome-


	14. Change of Heart

**_A/N: Here's a treat for everyone :) a lot of people seem to forget about Tamara, so i'm just bringing her back for little bit. Enjoy!_**

Parking the Batcycle in its designated spot, Batgirl slowly slides off as she painfully clutches her ribs. Terry definitely didn't hold back when he was throwing punches and kicks; it makes her wonder what could have pushed him to his limits like that. She pulls off her mask and gloves as she starts towards an alcove before a faint whirring sound grabs her attention. Curious, she follows the sound to the medic station where she finds Terry laying on the gurney with his back facing her.

Frowning, she approaches him wanting to find out what the problem is this time. When she's close enough, she can see Terry's arm is propped up on a pillow with a catheter sticking out of it. Her gaze follows the tube hooked to the needle and discovers the source of the whirring noise is the dialysis machine. She figures it must be a solution to the problem that created this whole mess. However, instead of leaving, curiosity pulls her around the gurney to face Terry.

Finding him sound asleep, she gets closer and tilts her head to the side as she watches his chest rhythmically rise and fall before her eyes move to his seemingly serene face. He looks comfortable, maybe even relieved to get much deserved rest. The corner of her mouth threatens a smile before her eyes guide her down his shoulder to the arm lying on top of the pillow. The scar she saw earlier is vivid and a little raised disrupting the otherwise smooth skin surrounding it. It doesn't look like it might have been deep enough for stitches, but it must have bled a lot.

For some reason, she finds herself mesmerized by it. Its color is a faded red and its length is almost 3 inches starting from the crease of his elbow and reaching down a third of his forearm. She wonders how he might have received it. Maybe when he was blocking a weapon, or jumping through a window. He might have fallen on or gotten snagged by something. However the damage was inflicted, the point is there's always a story behind every scar.

She's suddenly overcome by an urge to touch it, feel the raised bump, the imperfection marring an otherwise toned and strong arm. Switching her gaze between his arm and closed eyes, she hesitantly raises a hand and rests two fingers on the healing wound. When nothing stirs, she crouches to its level and locks her gaze on the arm.

It feels surprisingly smooth, unlike its jutting appearance. She can barely feel the bump even though she can definitely see it. If she was there when he first got cut, she would have been the one to clean and dress it. No; if she was there, he never would have gotten it to begin with. He wouldn't have to wear his mistake for the world to see. They say you can't learn from your mistakes if you don't make any, but wearing it as a badge of shame doesn't teach anything. It's a quiet humiliation, just like running from your fears.

Her fingers caress the length of the scar as she realizes that she just made the biggest mistake. Leaving, avoiding her fears, didn't help anyone, not even herself. The scar is still there, deep in her soul, in the back of her mind, constantly reminding her that she's a coward. Another saying comes into light: you can't get over your fears if you don't face them. Although tonight was her first test, she doesn't feel she passed. She was careful with every move she made, staying within her comfort zone, one that wasn't enough to win her match. She got flashed before she had a chance to push herself further. A sigh of disappointment escapes her as she returns her eyes to Terry's face.

That's when she notices his crystal blue eyes are wide open and staring straight into her grey ones. Gasping, she quickly snatches her hand away from his arm and shoots up; but before she could rush away, Terry quickly grabs a hold of her wrist keeping her firmly in place. As he sits up, he keeps his eyes locked onto her surprised ones before slowly reaching a hand out towards her face.

It hesitates in the air for a moment before his thumb and finger gently clamp on to her chin. Not knowing his intention, Jazz stands motionless with wide eyes intently watching Terry's still face. His eyes switch to her lips as his thumb creeps up to the corner of her mouth settling on the fresh cut he caused earlier that night. Still tender, Jazz flinches from the gentle touch, but Terry doesn't let go. Instead, he locks his eyes back on hers, and moves his hand up to her cheek where a dark bruise is just starting to form under her eye.

He pushes her sweat soaked bangs away to get a better look at it. Using two fingers, he lightly presses her cheekbone making her flinch again. Seeing the injuries he's inflicted on her face alone upsets him. He thought he was fighting his worst enemy, so he didn't hold back. Rather than stop and assess his circumstances, he decided to fight and give it his all. The consequence of that is hurting Jazz. He lets out a disappointed sigh as he retracts his hand while looking away giving Jazz the opportunity to quietly leave. Although he lies back down, self-tormenting thoughts stop him from catching any more sleep for the rest of his treatment.

* * *

Terry parks his bike across the street from the high school and waits for Tamara to show. It doesn't take long for the final bell to ring and teenagers to bustle out excited to start their summer vacation. He keeps a close eye on the crowd flowing out the doors until he recognizes a dark haired girl walk out. Straightening up, he waves at her when she looks his way and watches a grin stretch on her face.

He crosses the street and is surprised to be greeted with a hug. "You're okay!" Tamara says as she lets go of him.

Terry smiles back at her. "You're getting tall," he says patting the top of her head.

"Hey come on, I'm not nine anymore," Tamara complains moving her head away.

"Right, I forgot you have an image to keep up with," Terry replies before receiving a playful scowl. "Anyway, I'm here to thank you for your help yesterday."

"No you're not," Tamara replies eying him suspiciously.

He smiles at her before confessing his intention. "How'd you know I was in trouble?"

"When I make a psychic connection with someone, there's always a remnant left behind even after the connection is broken. So when you're in trouble, like mind kind of trouble, it goes off like an alarm."

Although she stops talking, Terry has a feeling she's not done. "What is it?"

"Well," she hesitantly starts. "Why did you see Blight of all people?" She asks nervously shifting her weight.

For a quiet moment, Terry just stares at the curious teenager standing in front of him before he runs a hand through his hair. "He's the worst thing that's ever happened to me."

"And Batgirl?" Tamara asks wondering if Spellbinder's visions produced complete opposites of the real image. Terry's reply though is a sheepish smile and a shrug making Tamara grin; finding out someone has a crush can be very rewarding for a fifteen year old. "Are you two like dating?" She asks with wide, expectant eyes.

"Tamara," Terry scolds scowling at her.

"What? It's a legit question," she shamelessly replies.

Terry shakes his head at her. "You're too much like a normal teenager sometimes," he sighs.

She gives him a very clear annoyed face before a honking horn gets their attentions. "That's my mom," Tamara says waving at the minivan then looking back up at Terry. "Take care of yourself?"

"Always. I'll see you around." He watches her rush off towards the van before walking back to his bike.

"Who was that?" Tamara's mother asks when her daughter gets in the car.

"Someone asking for directions," she replies intently watching Terry put his helmet on.

"And?" She asks as she eases into traffic.

"I didn't know where he was going," Tamara replies as Terry drives off. "But I hope he finds his way."

-to be continued-feedback welcome-


	15. Demons

_**A/N: **_***Looks at the date the last chapter was posted***_** Holy guacamole, Batman! Has it really been that long! Sorry for the delay folks. I should use grad school as an excuse, but truth is, i've neglected this fic because i was very dissatisfied with this chapter, which i had written and finished months ago. sooo i just scrapped the entire thing and wrote a completely new one two days ago. It's the fifth time this has happened during the course of writing this fic. There's only one chappie left along with an epilogue... that is if i don't go on another scrapping binge. anyway, this is a bit short, but more will follow soon, i promise! So here goes! Enjoy!**_

* * *

Three days have passed since Terry last saw Jazz. He had tried calling and texting but eventually gave up when no reply was received. It's clear she wants to be left alone. Now with the crisis averted, it's time for her to hide in her cave once again like an elusive snow leopard, only appearing when she wanted to. However, Terry didn't want to let her off the hook that easily. He wanted to talk to her about what he saw in the cave when he found her caressing his scar; she looked vulnerable and sad at the same time. What was she thinking about?

Growing restless from the curiosity, Terry decides to take a run before the sun sets and his patrol begins. He drives to the trail he had taken Jazz to earlier thinking it was tough enough to warm him up before facing the streets tonight. After stretching a few times, he puts his ear buds in, selects a playlist, and starts up the winding trail. He tries to ignore the fact that he performed better when Jazz was his running partner and decides to bring Ace along with him next time so he wouldn't feel the loneliness.

It takes him fifteen minutes longer than last time to reach the highest viewing platform, and when he does, he leans over resting hands on his knees as he tries to catch his breath. When he straightens up, he realizes he's not alone anymore. There is a woman leaning on the banister of the platform looking out at the setting sun. Telling from her sweat soaked shirt, Terry assumes she has just finished her run as well. Although he can't see the side of her face because of the visor she is wearing, he feels there's something familiar about her.

Taking his headphones out, he takes a few steps forward while tilting his head trying to catch a glimpse of her face. When she slightly turns her head towards him, his heart takes a sharp dive when he recognizes her to be Jazz. She hasn't taken notice of him yet, so he takes a moment to compose himself and slowly approach her. When she hears him walk up, Jazz's head whips in his direction and freezes with surprise.

Terry silently takes the same pose as her, leaning on elbows propped on the banister, and looks out at the city. A quiet moment passes between the two, neither one sure how to start. Finally, after what seems long enough, Terry decides to break the silence.

"So, what's up?" He light-heartedly asks turning to look into her wide eyes.

Blinking a few times, Jazz looks away. She knows he resorts to humor when he doesn't want to force a subject on her, which only means he wants to know what happened three days ago. However, she's not ready to confess anything yet. When she straightens up, Terry can tell she's ready to flee; so to keep her from escaping, he quickly grabs hold of her hand and straightens up as he faces her. He's done playing cat and mouse; it's time to lay it out.

"What the hell's been going on with you, Douglas?" He asks sounding harsher than he wanted to.

She avoids his gaze and tries pulling her hand away, but Terry has a firm grip on it. "Nothing," she replies even though she knows that answer won't suffice.

Terry lifts her chin with a finger forcing her to look into his face. The sky blue eyes she's used to seem darker now, as though storm clouds moved in replacing the serenity she usually finds.

"I can't go back," she finally blurts out feeling like she's the reason behind those clouds.

"No one is asking you to," he calmly replies letting go of her chin.

"You don't need to ask; I can tell you want me to."

Terry sighs as he lets go of her and runs a hand through his hair. "But I never asked," he repeats ignoring the few sweat soaked locks of hair that fall over his eyes. "Jazz, I just want to know what happened three months ago."

"Why?" She challenges not ready to reveal her secrets yet.

"Because I just do," he replies in a desperate voice that betrays his composed face.

Jazz swallows hard as she searches for the right words. "I'm afraid of what I'm becoming," she finally whispers while looking out at the city. Terry frowns at her before leaning one elbow on the banister and waiting for her to continue. "Ever since Spain, I feel like a psychopath that hasn't snapped yet. The thoughts I had on that bus, Terry…" Her voice trails off when she remembers the disturbing images that almost turned her into a monster.

"You wanted Nick dead," Terry tries finishing for her.

"Worse; I wanted him to suffer by my hand. I'm capable of killing, Terry, and at the time, I was more than willing to do it." She shakes her head with disgust. "I wasn't happy with the verdict; life in prison isn't enough punishment."

"Why'd you leave?" Terry suddenly asks trying to form a connection.

"Because every face I saw on the street was his. It would be a matter of time before one of them ends up dead by my hand."

When she finally looks at him, he can see real fear in her gaze. He nods with understanding as he tries to think of something reassuring to say. But what could be said in this situation? "Oh, you'd never do something like that"? No, that's ridiculous and a waste of his breath. He turns his eyes towards the city tinted a deep orange by the setting May sun. As they roam, he finds the old district and picks out the theater Bruce had tried so hard to save. They then move east to where his father's apartment stands, remembering the ugly graffiti covering the walls as he raced through the hallway only to find his father shot to death and blood staining the floor beneath his body. He closes his eyes for a moment to wash away the guilt and grief that accompany the memory before turning them up to Jazz.

"Why'd you come back to Gotham?" He finally asks making her frown.

"What do you mean?"

"You experienced the worst loss of your life here, but you had a chance to stay away. So what brought you back?"

She pauses to think about his question. He was right; she could have stayed away from the city where her father's life was stolen, where she had lost her family, where she struggled the most. So why _did _she come back? When her eyes turn to the uneven skyline, the corner of her bruised lip turns up into a half-smile. The answer was so easy and obvious, she felt like such a fool.

"Because I was made here," she replies making Terry smile with her.

He knows what she means; here is where the shy and quiet girl turned into a resilient, fearless woman. Her character was forged here, as was his. Warren's death awakened Terry's instinct to protect. Bruce's loss created the legend that kept Gotham from spiraling into a whirlpool of decay and hatred. This was a city that took away only to give something else back, and it gave Jazz pride and selflessness that helped her stand tall.

"Why didn't you let Powers die?" Jazz suddenly asks taking Terry by surprise.

His smile disappears when he remembers the night on the submarine with Blight and his son. All he had to do was watch Paxton finish the job, but something caused him to save a murderer.

"Because dad would never be proud of a son who has blood on his hands."

Neither would her father, she realizes. "I'm sorry," she suddenly apologizes.

"For what?"

"Being so difficult," she replies.

"We all have demons to face," Terry shrugs understanding the root of her strange behavior.

The honesty shared breathes new life into Terry, a feeling he is very grateful for. He can tell from her smile that no matter what path Jazz chooses, he's been quietly reassured that she will remain a presence in his life.

* * *

"You're late," Bruce scolds turning his chair around.

"I know," Terry unapologetically replies as he heads to an alcove to change.

An air of calmness seems to resonate from the young man as he walks away, and Bruce can't help but notice the change. It becomes more obvious later that night during an unexpected gang war that erupted in the heart of the city. Terry moves with familiar grace and ease; the lightness in his step has returned making him faster, more agile, and harder to target. Bruce hasn't seen him fight like this in months, making him wonder what could have dragged his protégé out of the depressed fog he was in. Regardless of what happened though, he's glad Terry is finally back and better than ever.

-(since the world didn't end) to be continued-feedback welcome-


	16. A New Chapter

**_A/N:Ok, so, we've neared the end. I apologize if some of you find this chapter sappy compared to the rest, but i couldnt do anything about it. However, don't hesitate to let me know if the sap was bad enough to make you cringe and bang your head against your keyboard... sometimes i respond that way, too. anyway, here's the last chappie of the fic! stick around for the epilogue coming up next! (which is, like, now). _**

* * *

The buzzing phone on the nightstand forces Terry to finally open his eyes. Reaching out with a heavy arm, he grabs the tiny gadget and holds it up to his ear.

"What?" He groggily asks closing his eyes again.

"I knew you'd forget," Max replies sounding irritated.

"S***!" He suddenly curses as he leaps out of bed. He hangs up as he pulls on a pair of jeans and grabs his shirt off the floor before sprinting out the door.

Checking her watch again, Max lets out an annoyed sigh as she thinks of ways to let Terry have it. This is the last time she'll ask him to drive her to the airport. She finally catches sight of him on his bike speeding towards her before parking in between two cars.

* * *

"I know, I know," he starts, taking his helmet off.

She tosses her car key his way. "The bag's already in the trunk. Let's go," she orders as she gets into the passenger seat of her car.

Sliding into the driver's side, Terry turns the car on and eases into traffic. "So, what happened?" Max starts looking over at him as he merges onto the highway.

"I forgot to set the alarm," he sheepishly replies. After giving him a reprimanding look, a sigh escapes her lips bringing the matter to an end. "So, Tokyo," Terry tries changing the subject. "Are you excited?"

"Cut the crap, McGinnis; I still remember the conversation we had last night before you pretended a crisis came up," Max accuses. During his patrol, Terry had called Max and accidentally let it slip that he confronted Jazz.

"I wasn't pretending," Terry counters.

"Yeah, okay," Max unconvincingly replies rolling her eyes. "Anyway, I believe we were at the part where you ran into her."

Terry squirms in his seat; he feels uncomfortable with recalling what happened the day before. What he and Jazz shared was personal, and he wants to protect that information even if Max is his best friend.

"Look, I can't really spare the details. Would it be enough to say that we're back on good terms?"

"How good are these terms?" Max curiously asks wondering if something happened between them.

"Don't get any ideas," Terry scolds as if reading her mind.

"What's wrong with my ideas? It's time you started dating again, Ter."

"First off, she's still with Henry; and second, who appointed you as match maker?" He asks as he takes the airport exit.

"First off," Max counters using the same format he did, "I don't have to be a match maker to worry about you. The last date you went on was, what, two years ago?"

"Three," Terry quietly corrects.

"Yikes. And second, I never suggested you date anyone in particular; I was just making a general statement," she finishes while suspiciously eying him. "Is there something you're not telling me?"

"Just drop it, Max," Terry replies getting more uncomfortable and wondering why it's taking so long to get to her terminal.

She narrows her eyes as she watching him shift in his seat and avoid her gaze. A sly grin crosses her lips. "Terry…" She prompts, "do you have someone on your mind?" The color that rushes to his face makes her perk up the way gossipy women usually do when they learn interesting information. "It's about time!" Max gleefully exclaims.

Terry scowls at her before sighing. "Fine, yes, it's true," he confesses as he parks in front of the departure gate.

"Tell me everything!"

"Ooh, sorry, no time," Terry grins. "You're flight leaves in less than an hour."

"How convenient," she grumbles as she gets out of the car. "Expect to explain everything to me the second I call, got it?" She orders as she watches him unload her luggage.

"If I manage to pick up the phone, then yeah," he teases lifting the handle of her suitcase. She gives him a warning look before he pulls her into a parting hug.

"At least tell me when it all started," Max pleads as she pulls away and grabs her bags.

"I would if you had more time," he grins stuffing his hands in his pockets.

"You're a cruel friend," she replies looking disappointed.

"I know. I'll see you in August."

"Yeah, yeah," she says as she turns and disappears into the building.

Getting back into the car, Terry's smile disappears when he realizes just how complicated the situation is. He wishes Max did have more time so she could help him dissect the issue, and maybe help him get over it; for now though, he tries putting the thoughts behind him and drives off.

* * *

She has never hated a long driveway as much as this one. The steps she takes are small, and barely make a mark in the gravel underfoot; but no matter how many she takes, the manor doesn't seem to be getting any closer. Thoughts of how Bruce might react to her visit begin flooding her mind and wiring her nerves. How is she supposed to get her foot in the door? And if she manages that, what's next? Explain what happened? He wouldn't want to hear that. She's not even sure if he'll listen to how she's reached the decision to visit today.

Running into Terry the other day was unexpected, but she is grateful it happened. The darkness that engulfed her brightened because of their conversation. Her fear of losing control was replaced with courage and confidence she hasn't felt in months.

'_We all have demons to face,'_ she remembers him saying.

It's a statement that reassured her, that showed he's been through the same thing, and that feeling afraid was a normal reaction. However, it also suggests that she needs to overcome this challenge, which is the reason she's pushing herself forward and up the steps to the front door. Tucking the Tupperware under her arm, she raises a finger to ring the doorbell and waits with rising anticipation. It takes a few minutes before the door swings open to reveal Bruce wearing an icy glare that shifts between her face and the container of food under her arm.

"He's not here," he grumbles.

"I'm not here for Terry," Jazz quickly replies stopping the door from slamming in her face. "I need to talk to you."

For a moment, Bruce's hardened face just stares back wondering why she's standing on the steps with food under her arm and a desperate look on her face. With curiosity getting the better of him, he steps aside to let her through, and leads the way to the kitchen.

"What do you want?" Bruce starts without an invitation to sit.

She sets the food down and begins fiddling with her fingers. "I'm sorry… for everything." His brow twitches at the unexpected apology, but he remains silent. "I didn't mean to cause this much trouble." She lowers her eyes away from his. "I know it looks like I don't care about anyone or anything, but that's not true."

"If you're here to relay a sob story, save your breath and get out."

"Bruce," she firmly replies lifting her eyes. "I'm not here to explain myself; I'm here to ask you if I can come back."

Her request surprises him, but years of practicing self restraint stop him from showing it. Instead, he narrows his eyes as he studies her face. Something is different about her this time. She seems to be standing taller, and the light behind her eyes is burning with a new determination. She's a different woman now, but this difference isn't enough to win him over.

"Why?"

"Because I have a debt to repay. What I did was selfish and stupid, but I want to make up for that."

"How do I know you won't run out again?"

"By trusting me," she replies internally wincing at what she just said. After everything she did to them, Bruce of all people should just trust her.

Without surprise, he scoffs in reply. "And why would I do that?"

"Because I care about Terry," she replies surprising him for the last time. "I don't care if that doesn't mean anything to you, but…" she hesitates. "But he means everything to me."

Bruce doesn't pretend he wasn't affected by her statement. He knows it wasn't easy for her to say what she did, but he still has to consider what's good for Terry. Flaky behavior is not something he wants Terry to deal with, but he can't ignore the fact that Terry needs her; after all, he figures she must be the one behind Terry's sudden improvement in performance. He has a difficult decision to make, and although he would love to say no and kick her out, his conscience keeps him silent while he evaluates the situation. The last time he tried to drive Jazz out, it resulted in a back lash from Terry; but when he tried to get Jazz to help him, she was almost ready to run out. He doesn't understand what they want, but a decision has to be made, and he's not about to let these two make it.

* * *

A growling stomach draws Terry straight to the manor's kitchen. Hypnotically heading to the fridge, he opens the door and searches for something substantial enough to stop his stomach from caving in. However, as he scans the shelves, his eyes widen when they fall on a food container with a note written in very familiar handwriting. Forgetting his hunger, he sprints out of the kitchen heading towards the cave entrance. He runs down the first few steps before leaping off the staircase and onto the main floor.

He freezes when he realizes the computer is being used by someone hidden behind the high-backed chair. "Jazz?" He hesitantly asks as he takes a step forward.

When the chair slowly spins to face him, his stomach sinks at the sight of Bruce staring back with a placid look on his face. Terry's shoulders slump forward with disappointment as he mumbles an apology.

Bruce turns the chair back to face the console before saying, "she's upstairs."

The statement surprises Terry for a moment before he sprints back up the stairs with the second floor music room in mind. He doesn't need to check the other rooms because he's sure she'll be in there, sitting in front of the grand piano with a frown on her concentrating face as she tries to perfect her scales. So it doesn't come as a surprise when he hears the instrument being played behind the closed doors. Drawing a steady breath to compose himself, he pushes the door open and finds her just as he had imagined.

Aware of his presence, Jazz stops her exercises and looks up at him. "Hey," she greets with a small smile.

Somehow, that one word says it all: she's sorry she ever left, she's grateful for everything he's done for her, she won't disappoint him again, and he should stop staring at her and start the lesson already. So, there's only one thing he can say in response to her speech.

"Hi."

- to be continued-feedback welcome-


	17. Epilogue

**_A/N: well, the title says it all. Thanks for sticking around and reading, and special thanks go to those who took the time to review. I can't describe how elated i feel when i get an email saying a review had been posted :) Hope everyone enjoyed the ride, and yes, i will be starting up a new fic... eventually. Anyway, with a very low and grateful bow, i invite everyone to read the final chapter. Enjoy!_**

* * *

_Epilogue_

Glad to finally be back in Gotham, Henry doesn't waste time with picking up his bag from the luggage carousel and catching a cab headed to Jazz's apartment. On the ride over, he realizes just how much he missed her and her food, and smiles when he imagines her waiting for him and holding his favorite pot of stew. The last three months were pure bliss. He hadn't worried about her safety, her life was on track, and best of all, they no longer had any secrets to hide. Life seemed steady, and although he puts in unusual hours at the ER, he feels his life is finally starting to stabilize.

It isn't long before he finds himself in the elevator on his way up to her floor. When the doors slide open, he is welcomed with the delicious aroma of food wafting from her place. A smile crosses his face when he recognizes the smell to be the stew he was fantasizing about earlier. Knowing he has no reason to knock, he walks into her apartment and finds her standing in front of the stove with back turned towards him. He sets his bag down by the door and walks up behind her wrapping arms around her waist and planting a kiss on the nape of her neck.

"Hey, beauti-woah!" He suddenly exclaims when she turns her head revealing the injured lip and black eye. "What the hell happened to you?" He asks as he examines her embarrassed face.

"Nothing, I'm fine," she replies shaking away the grip he has on her chin.

"You have three stitches in your lip!"

"Henry, relax," Jazz tries calming him down. "I tripped; that's all."

"Tripped?" Henry asks clearly unconvinced. She nods once. "On what? A fist?"

She winces at how unbelievable and lame her excuse is. "Okay, so I didn't trip," she admits with a sigh.

Narrowing his eyes, Henry studies her for a moment before his eyes travel down to the food simmering in the pot. The pieces start coming together: she's making his favorite stew, she's injured, and there's unmistakable guilt emanating from her eyes.

"Don't tell me you're doing that Batgirl thing again," he finally says after a moment of silence.

"It's not a thing, Henry," she defensively replies offended by his disrespectful statement.

"Oh, for the love of-!" He exclaims letting go of his girlfriend and stepping back. "I was only gone for a week!"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"It means you weren't supposed to do anything stupid before I got back."

"You're not my keeper," Jazz rounds on him.

"I didn't mean it like that, but this is a decision that affects both of us."

"It doesn't affect anything. You're at the hospital most of the night anyway, so how are things going to be any different?"

"You'll be risking your life, that's how."

"I'll be fine," she says waving him off.

"_This_, Jazz," he hisses pointing at her face, "this is not fine; you almost got yourself killed last year!"

"That's not going to happen again."

"You can't even look me in the eye when you say that! God, Jazz," he sighs running a hand through his short, blond hair. "Why the hell are you doing this?"

"Because I have to."

"No, you don't. The city was fine without you the last three months."

"I'm not asking for your permission," Jazz replies glaring at him.

"Fine!" He throws his hands up with surrender. "Do whatever the hell you want, Douglas." Spinning on his heel, he storms out of the kitchen, grabs his bag, and walks out of her apartment slamming the door behind him.

Seeing him this angry makes Jazz curse herself as she hurls the stirring spoon into the sink. She rips off her apron and runs out after him catching him just before he steps onto the elevator.

"Henry, don't go! Look I'm sorry, okay," she apologizes hoping it will stop him from leaving, but when he doesn't move, she takes a step forward to touch his arm. "Please, Henry."

The desperation in her voice brings him to face her. When their eyes connect though, he finds a need in her face that softens his gaze.

"Come on," he sighs taking her hand and pulling her back into the apartment. Once inside and away from curious ears, he asks, "who is he?"

"Who?" Jazz returns frowning at him.

"You know who; Batman."

"I can't tell you," Jazz replies with grave seriousness

"Is it McGinnis?"

"Terry?" She scoffs. "No, of course not." The answer however, doesn't ease Henry's hardened face. "It's not him, Henry. He works for Wayne; you think he has time to work for him _and _save Gotham?"

"Didn't you?"

"I was his dog walker, Terry is his _assistant_. It's a 24 hour job!" However his unwavering face makes her groan with irritation. "Look, I can't tell you who he is; you're going to have to trust me on this one. Please."

Henry carefully studies his girlfriend's face to understand why she's trying so hard to convince him of a lie. He's done a thorough search on Terry McGinnis, and his findings did not completely surprise him. Batman suddenly reappeared soon after Terry McGinnis, a former delinquent, signed on to be Bruce's assistant. From there, Henry made a careful study of Bruce, the billionaire with easy access to any technology he wants. His demeanor suddenly took a strange turn for the grim after his health began deteriorating, an unexpected shift from the usually popular and fun-loving heartthrob Gotham knew him to be.

Suddenly Henry gets it: she's honoring a promise. She knows full well how capable he is at discovering secrets and connecting dots, but that doesn't mean she's going to confess to anything. It's one thing to learn that information on your own, and another having someone confirm it for you. He reaches an arm forward and wraps it around her waist as he pulls her close. He gently places a hand on the nape of her neck making her look up into his deep blue eyes.

"If he lets anything happen to you Jazz, I swear I will find him and kill him."

"I'll pass the message along," Jazz replies smiling.

She wraps her arms around him and tilts her chin up to receive the gentle kiss he plants on her lips. When they part, he rests his forehead against hers as he takes in the full experience of having her in his arms again. He'll have to take advantage of every moment he has with her now that uncertainty lurks around every bend.

"I love you, Jazz," he whispers tightening his embrace.

An involuntary smile crosses her lips as she buries her face in his chest. However, a bitter reminder robs her from fully enjoying the moment: her choice to take on a dangerous career. At this point she should break his heart to keep him from getting too close and protect him from future despair and disappointment.

But when she lifts her face to look into his, all she can say is, "I love you, Henry."

END


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